Two Weeks
by AnbarElectrum
Summary: AU, vamps. Immortality is the biggest lie ever. Everyone's time runs out, but after 5,000 years it's easy to forget that. The Pharaoh never thought he'd be taking his final bow so soon, and now he has just two weeks to name and prepare his successor, say his goodbyes, prevent a rebellion and puzzle out the mystery of Yugi Motou, a magnet for two things: Trouble, and Yami himself.
1. Prologue

_**Warnings: AU, vampires, yaoi (lime, skirting the edge of lemon), swearing, some violence, possibly not **_**enough**_** violence, fluctuating levels of excess prosyness which is not a word**_

_**A/N: Okay, this is going to be a **_**long **_**A/N, mostly because the story is actually complete so I'm not going to have much use for them in later chapters so almost everything I need to say will get said here. And with that stunning example of circular logic…**_

_**I know what you're thinking: Oh, hey, another YGO vamp fic. How original. And yes, it's true; vampire AUs in **_**Yu-Gi-Oh**_** are about as common as Peggy-Sue fics (Time travel AUs, for those who haven't sacrificed their Internet life to TVTropes long since) in **_**Harry Potter **_**or **_**Final Fantasy VII.**_** And like those Peggy-Sue fics, vampire AUs in **_**any **_**fandom have a tendency to be kind of…well, **_**bad.**_** Not to say that they're **_**all **_**bad; I've actually read a few that I rather liked and even a few of the ones I didn't were at least well-written. But that's what happens when you turn a world on its ear; sometimes, it's just not the same world when you're done. And usually, that's not a **_**good **_**thing. I began the **_**Two Weeks **_**project with a single objective: I would write a vampire AU, using the same circumstances as the majority of other stories. The characters who are usually vampires in YGO fic are vampires here; the ones who are usually human, surprise, get to stay human. The main couple is slash/yaoi—in this case, Puzzleshipping (and yes, it is 'true' Puzzleshipping, despite my honest insistence that I'm a Spiritshipper. Rules are rules.), as the plot idea I had didn't really work for Thiefshipping. The one concession to the genre which I was unwilling to make was the inclusion of Yami Marik as a separate character from Marik, which I cannot say anything more about or this A/N would easily quadruple in length. Necks were to be nommed. Sex was to be had. And damn it, even if it killed me, it was **_**still **_**somehow going to be more substantive than 'YGO guys are sexy, fangs are sexy, fanged YGO guys are sexier; discuss'. It was going to be around 20 pages at maximum. Its primary focus was going to be romance, because that's the focus of most vampire AUs.**_

_**187 pages and an overarching political drama, multiple felonies, two brawls, and a swordfight later, I'm having a hard time not bursting out laughing. It, um, got away from me a little.**_

_**Many of the characters in this drift into OOC moments at times; this is, I assure you, completely intentional. Although their base personalities are unchanged (at least I thought so), sometimes they will do or say or think things you wouldn't expect in the main continuity for the simple reason that they aren't **_**in **_**the main continuity. Relationships, goals, ambitions, dreams, interests, mannerisms—some of these are integral, but others come to us based on when and where and how we live our lives, so naturally there will be differences.**_

_**And…I think that's it. This fic **_**is **_**complete; I will post one new chapter each on Mondays and Fridays. Chapters actually get progressively longer, and my apologies, but that's mostly because the time between events gets inversely shorter. The 'verse can get twisty in places; I **_**think **_**I explained it all in-prose but in some places I was worried I might be info-dumping so stuff that seems obvious to me might make no sense to you. Any confusion, you know where to find me. Odds are any questions you got on this stuff, I have the answers to 'em in a file somewhere. Reviews are, as always, more than welcome.**_

_**Without any further ado…**_

**Prologue**

**The Birth of an AU**

"…_Bakura and I got to talking about fanfiction and how silly it all is…half of them involve the main cast turning into vampires for _no good reason! _And then I said, _'I_ wouldn't mind being a vampire. Then I could live forever, just like _you._'_

"_And then _he _said, 'Living forever is overrated…'"_

—Abridged!Marik Ishtar, _Marik Plays Bloodlines_

Ladies and gentlemen, let's face it. One of the oldest tricks of the internet fanfiction trade (which, at nearly twenty years in age, is absolutely _ancient_) is to take a fandom, pick out the darkest/sexiest/most mysterious/craziest characters and turn them into vampires. It makes for a fabulous spanner in the works, instantly disrupting the fandom's familiar old patterns that are oft-times so difficult to manipulate. A popular variation on this is to simply pick up the entire fandom and re-shuffle it into an AU where these characters were _always_ vampires, and a couple of the more self-righteous ones are vampire hunters, and everyone else is a quirky cunning everyman or an innovative paranormal biologist or just a hapless bystander that gets caught up in the action because hey, they _are _main characters.

This is an example of the latter type. It will hopefully be different from the hundred-odd others of its kind. It will _certainly_ be different from the way life is for Yugi and Co at the moment. But then, what are alternate universes for…?

_**Alternate Universe Mods Installing**_

_**Extracting Files**_

_**Loading Textures**_

_**Loading Characters**_

_**Loading Dialogue**_

… … …

_**Preparing to Enter Alternate Universe…Loading Opening Voiceover…Entering Alternate Universe**_

_**Life-Timer Custom Setting "Countdown Function" Detected. Begin Countdown? **__**Y**__**/N**_

_**Countdown Initialising. Please Wait… … … …**_

The world changed forever in 3000 BCE. Give or take, at any rate. It's difficult to accurately track the years through half a dozen calendar changes and language barriers. Though even if one were able to pin down the precise year, it would be rather moot as it's well known that our kind existed long before then. That was simply the era in which vampires first came into their own. Perhaps our origins lie a thousand years prior, two thousand, another five, ten—but then, I have never been one to study the past. By now, I've _lived_ most of it, as far as the present generation is concerned…

I was born Atem, son of Akhnamkanon, King of Egypt. I succeeded my father at the age of twelve, after his death by 'causes unknown'. At the age of seventeen, I joined him in death. Physically speaking, at any rate; my heart has never been weighed by Anubis, nor have I been granted entrance to the Afterlife. After I was Turned by my greatest enemy, the King of Thieves, the force of our combat locked us both away in a coma for many years.

_Coma _being the politically correct way of putting it.

I awoke one century later, surrounded by others of my kind—this was before the word _vampire _came to be. These few had formed a cult of sorts—the Children of Nut, goddess of the sky and the stars, queen of the night.

The circumstances of my rise—both from the grave and, once more, to power—are a mystery to many and I'd rather prefer them to remain so. There were things that had to be done, things I've never been proud of, things that should stay in the past. Within a decade, however, _we_ had taken our rightful place. The Night Children had come. The tyranny of the day was past.

I am called Atem no longer; the name died with me as I intended, and the key to my power along with it. Unsatisfied with a simple title, it seems nations like to take turns trying to name me. Japan took a stab at it most recently: _Yami,_ unoriginal as it may be, is what they came up with around the turn of the 20th century and thanks to advances in communications technology at that time, it appears the name will belong to me for a while this time. Centuries, maybe; perhaps even millennia. Honestly, used to it as I've become, I might well have chosen to keep it for good. It would have been nice, to finally have some sense of permanence.

Time passes. Tensions ease. Humans die, vampires fade. Five thousand years later, nothing in this world remains as it was. Nothing except me. And soon, even I will be gone. That's the one great secret we keep from humanity: Immortality is a lie. There isn't any such thing. Sooner or later, Death will get bored and tell your life-timer to get a move on, and then… Well, you can cheat Death, but you can't ever truly defeat it. Just put it off time and again.

But nothing can stave it off forever...


	2. Artistic License: Biology

_[The following is an excerpt from an old 100-level Biology textbook lying around Yugi_ and_ Joey's apartment, the ownership of which remains a mystery]_

Despite their constant presence in modern society, there are many myths about vampires that have yet to be fully dispelled. Chief among them is the idea that vampires are undead. While it is true that vampires enter death-like state once the vampiric infection enters the body, the common belief that they are no longer physically alive was scientifically disproven in the early 20th century when advances in medical technology made it possible to detect a vampire's heartbeat. The changes which the vampiric infection introduces to the human body include increased strength and durability of the musculoskeletal system, heightened reflexes, enhanced senses of sight, smell, taste and hearing, a boosted immune system, and an extremely fast cellular regeneration rate. It is this last quality which makes it seem like vampires are 'frozen' at the age when they were first infected; their bodies are constantly healing themselves, the minute damages of age and wear healing flawlessly within nanoseconds. Since their boosted immune system prevents them from contracting illnesses, barring malice or accidents vampires are functionally immortal.

This fast healing rate, however, gives rise to their need to consume human blood. Like any other living beings, vampires need blood in their veins, distributing nutrients and oxygen throughout their cells. However, their boosted regenerative capacity is extremely demanding on the metabolism and as a result, unlike any other species, it is entirely possible for vampires to naturally run out of blood. The exact process by which vampires convert the blood they consume into blood compatible with their bodies regardless of type or genetic differences, as well as the near-direct way the new blood cells pass into the bloodstream, is not yet fully understood. However, the dire consequences of a vampire failing to feed at least once per month are well known. Blood withdrawal at first presents as progressively severe anaemia, escalating to show symptoms characteristic of starvation, dehydration, and anoxia. If a vampire does not feed within two weeks of when they begin to show signs of blood withdrawal, the condition will result in death.

**_A/N: Yes, it's an update already, but this and Chapter One were_ supposed _to have been posted at the same time as the Prologue...note to self: make sure ALL of ff . net is working before posting new stories...*grumble grumble*_**

**_This is just a quick heads-up on what constitutes a vampire in this 'verse, because there was _no _way to fit this into the story proper without it sounding forced but it needed to be said. Don't worry, this is the only exposition-dump-entry._**


	3. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

**Who Says Bakura Can't Do Exposition?**

_**Thursday: -7 Days**_

"Tagging," said Bakura, "is fucking stupid."

"Oh _God_—" an improbably pronounced Australian accent interjected.

"Let me finish!" the Thief King snapped. "Look, we're _vampires. _Children of the Night. Humanity's natural predator. We snatch them out of the darkness and drink them dry!"

"Kura—"

"We do _not_ reach out for them only to realise they don't smell tasty and demand to see their licenses to make sure they didn't get that bloody _tagging fluid_ off a dealer somewhere, because _vampires_—"

"Shut _up!"_

"—are actually supposed to be a little, you know, _intimidating!? _Not sniffing around for the scraps humanity leaves us out of the poor and the careless!" The albino spat on the cracked concrete floor. "_Gods, _I miss actually being allowed to _hunt._ Choosing your prey, tracking them, cornering them, _terrifying _them, and then _dinnertime."_ He grinned unsettlingly.

"Oh _great_. Y'_do _realise that if we'd been in His Highness's house, he'd 'ave bloody _killed_ ya f'that?" The owner of the strong Australian accent, a blue-eyed brunet with wild hair, rubbed at his forehead with a chilly bloodless palm.

"Oh, nothing so melodramatic, Valon," a pleasant baritone interjected.

Bakura and Valon looked up and saw the small, lithe shape of the Pharaoh silhouetted against the sunlit doorway, the daylight gleaming over the surface of the Millennium Puzzle around his neck.

"Bloody hell, shut the door! You're letting the sun in!" Bakura hissed, scrabbling back into the shadows.

Yami smirked and stepped further inside, closing the warehouse door behind him. "Good afternoon, Tomb Robber. My apologies; I forgot you were so…_particularly _susceptible to sunlight."

"The blokes at Oxford need to redefine _eidetic_, then?" Bakura sneered, regaining his composure. The Millennium Ring around his own neck flashed angrily, as though indignant at the threat to its bearer. "Or is it just that your memory's gone a bit _funny _in your old age?"

Yami arched an eyebrow. "I believe _you _are the oldest extant vampire, thief. You tell me."

"Fuck you, Pharaoh."

"No thanks. I'm not that _desperate_."

"But you _are _desperate."

Yami stilled—not that he'd been moving, per se, but now it was as if every single cell in his undead body had just _stopped._ It was Bakura's turn to smirk.

"Valon, leave us," Yami ordered quietly.

Valon hesitated.

"_Now!_" the Pharaoh snapped, and without once taking his eyes off of Bakura, he gestured to a door opposite the one he'd used to enter the warehouse. The door instantly snapped open and flat against the wall, revealing a shaded alley beyond. The entire warehouse wall shuddered with the force of the door's impact.

The Australian vampire scurried out of the door, not pausing to weigh the logic of his actions until he was safely ensconced in the darkest available corner outside. He'd seen Shadow Magic before; he'd been hanging around Bakura too long _not _to have. He'd even seen Yami use it before. If there was a way to measure Shadow Magic, the Pharaoh's ratings would be off the charts, he was _that powerful_, which Valon tried not to mention in front of Bakura because it led to a largely-incomprehensible rant about how selfish it was for Yami to hoard his power that way and Bakura had only wanted a _little _of it, really.

Most of the stories, though—what little stories there still _were _of magic, in this day and age were even vampires though magic no more than myth—centred around the remarkable finesse and control that elder vampires like the Thief King and the Pharaoh possessed. Finesse and control that had been nowhere to be seen moments ago. Which, Valon reflected, seemed like a perfectly sensible reason to get out of the potential blast radius as quickly as possible.

But back to the warehouse.

"What do you mean?" Yami asked, very softly.

Bakura snorted. "I'm photophobic, not _blind. _Nor have I been robbed of the use of my ears and nose."

"A sad day indeed for our people, when the robber is robbed."

"You think you're _so damn clever—!"_

"And shouldn't it be _heliophobic, _anyway?"

"_You_ tell that to my eyes!" Bakura groaned. "Look, just shut up for a moment, okay? Your fangs are out at _least _two millimetres further than any self-respecting vampire over two hundred ever leaves them and a full _five_ past where you keep them usually, Mr Vampire-What-Vampire-Long-Canines-Are-A-Family-Trait."

"Oh, for the love of—"

"_Don't_ deflect! Your irises are red and the pupils are almost slitted—"

"I _am _a vampire, you know! Red eyes are a given!"

"Yes, and a bloody day-goer to boot!" Bakura snapped. "You don't even have to put sunscreen on! And not even one of us lesser immortals would have slitted pupils inside, day-goer or not."

"Except you."

"_Photophobic!_ Your voice is at least half an octave higher than usual—stressed, _Your Highness?—_and I'd bet if I touched you you'd be cold as ice. And _gods_, the _pheromones._ You're bloody well _exhaling sex_, you know. Any stronger and _I'd _be trying to rip your shirt off, and I _hate _you. Plus, the door? You've been managing doors with magic since they were _invented; _what the hell is with breaking my wall? You're jonesing, you _idiot. _When did you last feed?" Bakura demanded.

"Yesterday," Yami said stonily.

The Thief King's eyes widened, nonplussed. Mentally, he scrapped the _exactly! Regular eating habits are important for us _too_, you know_ _and if you weren't a bloody _moron _maybe you could figure that out without consulting your arch-enemy _speech and flailed about for something else intelligent to offer.

Finally, he settled for: "The _fuck_ you say?"

Yami smiled wryly. "And now we come to grips with the real problem."

"You've gone into _bloodfreeze? _Oh no. Oh no, no, no, _no,_" Bakura moaned into his hands, finally standing up from where he'd been perched on a handy crate. Yami's eyes followed the albino vampire as he paced the length of the immediately accessible warehouse. "This isn't happening. This _can't _be happening. What—now, after all this time, _now_ your body starts rejecting blood?"

"My dear Tomb Robber. I didn't know you cared."

"Shut. Up. I'm older than you, you know—what happens when it's _my _turn? Fuck…!"

"You keep using that word," Yami observed. "I do not think it means what you think it means."

"Ra and Osiris, Pharaoh; I wait five thousand years for you to develop a sense of humour and you wait until you're—!" Bakura cut himself off abruptly, his expression settling somewhere between wry, sheepish, and awkward. And angry, of course, but that was his default expression.

"Dying," the Pharaoh supplied. "Again."

The thief was silent.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Yami said at length. "This _has _happened before, you know. Not to me, of course—but the age has always varied. _Fūrén_ Li Mei was nearly seven thousand years old when she was struck, while Donal Glas was barely a decade turned; little more than a fledgling."

It seemed as though Bakura was going to continue his impromptu mute routine, but then suddenly he broke the silence. "There's going to be hell when this gets out, you know."

"Indeed."

"Especially once you actually kick it."

"Thank you for your sensitivity to my situation," Yami deadpanned.

"Stuff sensitivity, I'm being serious here. It's not even that there'll be a mad grab for power, except for a couple of _babies_ that think they know how the game is played because they read a little Shakespeare in high school. It's that _no one_ worth mentioning is going to do _anything_. There's no throne to be had, no kingship to be bestowed. There's just _you_, you and your bloody _reputation_ and _legends._ You're the Pharaoh, and that's it, there's never been a _need _for anything else because_ Pharaoh_ governs and _Pharaoh_ decides and _Pharaoh_ can do anything he bloody well wants except _die_. I mean, we barely even _have _a government outside of you. You go, and the entire system comes crashing down. There'll just be a bunch of vamps staring at each other waiting for you to be all clever and tell them what to do except, oh wait, you'll be dead. It'll be madness. Chaos."

"You should feel right at home then," Yami suggested, but not even Bakura had the will to slaughter this last attempt at levity. He just shook his head.

"Why are you telling _me _this? I _did _kill you, you know."

Yami laughed softly. "Setting aside the fact that vampires aren't _technically _even physically deceased? Perhaps I'm getting sentimental in my old age."

"Bit of nostalgia for the bad old days when it was just me, you, a blood feud to last the ages and a whole world at stake?" Bakura barked out a harsh laugh of his own, sinking back down onto his crate.

"Some things don't change," Yami reflected, sitting opposite the thief. "It is just you and me, now. We're all that's left of Khemet."

Bakura scoffed. "Do you know half the vamps these days don't even worship the Egyptian gods?"

"They haven't for a while," the Pharaoh pointed out.

"There's even a splinter sect trying to go Christian. _Full-on Christian,_ I tell you! When every cross and Bible's been blessed within an inch of its life to burn us _impure polytheistic abominations?_ How do they even _manage?"_

The Pharaoh cracked a smile. "Perhaps they've exchanged the chasubles for HAZMAT suits?"

"_Ha!"_ Bakura grinned. "Won't they just be screwed when the Protestant Reformation shows up. No chasubles to scrap. No Bibles to translate from Latin."

"They can re-write the pretentious Mass settings," Yami mused. "I hear the Neo-Catholic Church has quite a taste for ceremony. What do you think, Mass circa Rome 1500?"

"Well, didn't your priestess set up shop in some old cathedral? How's all that hallowed ground working out for her?" he asked with a shark-like smile. "Because honestly, there's martyrs and then there's masochists."

"Liberty hasn't been consecrated for centuries," the Pharaoh said, shaking his head. "And believe you me, Ishizu is the last person who could ever take pleasure in _anyone's _pain."

"Yeah. We've met," Bakura said rather sourly, looking away from the Pharaoh, staring at the ground. "Ah, Pharaoh…I'm…not sure how to say this, but…sorry. And…well, we're the only ones left from, you know, _then_, and I just…I hate you _so bloody much_, but you're my, well. My…" Bakura coughed.

"Sorry? Didn't quite catch that last."

"Frmmph."

Yami appeared a little perplexed, but there was a wicked gleam in his ruby eyes. "Just once more, please; I'm certain I'll get it this time—"

"Friend! Friend! There, I said it, alright?! No need to make such a bloody big deal about it," Bakura snarled. "If you weren't _dying_ right now I'd probably shiv you, _that's _how much I hate you, but you're _my bloody friend_, okay?"

A faint smile playing across his lips, Yami said, "I won't tell a soul. Or a body, for that matter."

"You'd better not." Bakura crossed his arms.

Gracefully, without seeming to do much in the way of moving at all, Yami stood up. "There was this, as well," he said, reaching into his grey jacket. He handed Bakura a heavy cloth-wrapped object about the size of his two hands.

Bakura weighed it in one palm, frowning. "…Stone? Who walks around with a _stone tablet_ in their _coat?"_

"Five-thousand-year-old pharaohs, evidently. Might I expect you at the next Court meeting?"

"Me? At a Court meeting? You've lost it, Pharaoh."

"Indeed I have not." Yami folded his hands behind his back. "You know vampire law well enough by now—not merely _my _laws, but the laws which have governed our kind since long before we stepped into the metaphorical spotlight. As far as most vampires are concerned I _am_ the law, having neither beginning nor end. But I _did_ have a beginning, Bakhu'ra. I lived, I died, and I was Turned—specifically, by you."

Bakura's eyes widened for an instant. "Oh hell," he groaned, closing his crimson eyes. "I'm your damned _sire._"

"Quite. And as such, you are my kin. It is—fitting—that you should be present when I make my condition public. And when I name my successor—I do not wish the chaos we discussed earlier to become reality for our kind." Yami paused. "I don't suppose you have a recommendation on that count?"

Bakura frowned, setting the still-wrapped tablet down. "Well, as long as Hell's frozen over and you're asking my opinion… Anique de Léon is a bit of a modernist, but good grasp of politics; a bit obscure, but well-liked. And then there's von Schroeder of course; bloody purple-haired ponce, and young, but competent, capable, with a lot of friends in the Court and elsewhere from what I hear. And World War Two would have been a _lot _more trouble without him, I do have to give him that. No respect for the Law of the Game, of course, but then they don't tend to these days, do they…" He snickered. "Did you hear he highlights his hair _pink? _No one's ever gotten any _evidence _of it, but everyone _knows _it—and that's why it looks purple!"

"So I've been told." Yami dipped his head graciously. "The next session opens in one week's time. Three meetings on consecutive days—"

"I _know _what a Court session is," Bakura interrupted wearily.

"As you like." A pause. "My thanks, Bakhu'ra." He turned to leave.

"Kura," Bakura said suddenly.

Yami paused, still facing away.

"My friends—such as they are—call me Kura."

Unseen, Yami smiled. "Of course…Kura."

And with that, the Vampire King took his leave.

Bakura picked up the tablet. He stared at it for a full minute, trying to beat down the sense of trepidation he felt. Then he took hold of a fold of linen and pulled, freeing the tablet from its wrapping.

The stone was chipped in places, but the hieroglyphs were legible all the same. Written on the tablet was a plea to the gods—a man begging to claim the fault and the punishment for a great tragedy, for his son to be spared judgement for his family's crimes (now his own) and his brother forgiven for his sins done in good name (for his sins were his no longer), and for the souls of the victims (_his _victims, and his alone) to rest peacefully evermore in the land of the gods themselves.

The tablet was signed with the full name of the Pharaoh Akhnamkanon.

When at last Valon dared venture inside once more, he saw the Thief King bent over the stone tablet still, his eyes fixed upon the words of a man dead long past, his heart's cries for revenge silenced at long last.


	4. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

**A Matter of Conscience, and How Loud It Can Be**

_**Thursday: -7 Days**_

Yugi cast a nervous glance at the sky and moved a little faster, anxiously, fiddling with the battered old ring on his finger. _Damn._ His last class had ended at 4:00, and normally there'd be an hour or two until sundown, but now there were clouds gathering, blocking out most of the light. Perfect feeding time for a day-goer, a heliotolerant vampire—not enough light to bother them, but still painful for normal ones and just shy of lethal for a heliophobe. Plenty of victims and little or no competition—just other day-goers, none of your average vamps or dracs. Sure, it was _technically _illegal to go around biting people before sundown, but if you weren't caught _in medias res, _there were ways to keep from being identified by the bite-ee. Chief among them: killing said victim. After all, if you were going to break the law a little, why not go the full distance? And here he was, untagged and ripe for the biting!

He stopped suddenly, hissing in pain. _"Damn,"_ he swore softly, lifting his thumb to his eyes. That frigging bent setting! Usually, Yugi remembered not to touch the ring, but every so often he fidgeted and _bam._

"Sure. Let's walk through vamp turf bleeding on a sunless day. Why not."

_Just _what he needed. Sucking gently on the pad of his wounded thumb, Yugi considered his options. The Registrar's Office was all the way across campus from where he had his English class. That was, eh, ten minutes' walk? Then a quick walk to the hospital (_in the complete opposite direction, natch) _and then…

Yugi groaned. _God, I'm stupid._ He had his student ID—he could just go directly to the hospital! He'd have to wait a little longer to submit his application and wait for it to go through, but an hour or so in a crowded (_with humans!_) waiting room beat half an hour walking through vampire-heaven weather conditions.

He turned around and left campus.

* * *

Yami kept his head down for the most part, walking the streets of New York City. There were so many people all around—some tagged and imperceptible to a lesser nose _(to a less thirsty vampire)_, some with blood unsullied and fragrant as a sweet ice wine. If ice wine had happened to taste like old pennies.

After all, blood didn't taste any _different _to a vampire—they just had a unique appreciation for it.

Gods. He'd never known bloodfreeze was so—so—_torturous_. Certainly, starving to death wasn't the best way to go, but somehow he'd always pictured it more as a steady fading away. Raging bloodlust had never crossed his mind as a symptom but _Ra_, this was maddening. Why the hell did ninety-eight percent of the world's population have to be _food?_

Yami shuddered and shouldered his way through the crowd. Normally, the crowd moved for _him_, but the last thing he needed right now was to draw attention to himself. Bad enough that he had to fetch blood on his own account, rather than sending one of Ishizu's acolytes for it as he usually did, but there was no _time._

Time enough, though, for his dignity: the hospital was just ahead.

He stood straighter now, walking with more of his usual confidence now that salvation was in sight. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see an alley beside the hospital. A tall, majestic woman stood over a small young man, a college student by the looks of it. As he breathed in, Yami's eyes narrowed. Two distinct scents. _Vampire_, that was the woman, _has been for a decade, less even, _and her victim—

—her red-stained, clean-blooded victim…

In the heart of his day-red eyes, inky pupils nearly vanished.

_**Mine.**_

* * *

Yugi tensed, pulling away from the vampire.

"Aw, what's wrong, sweetie?" she murmured. "I won't _drain _you…just a little taste…"

"Back _off,"_ he whispered tensely, and she laughed.

He closed his eyes on her smile.

_Kitty caught a mouse!_ his mind supplied in his mother's laughing voice.

_That's what it's called from now on, isn't it?_ his father's replied, wearily amused.

_Lamest perimortem memory _ever, Yugi realised foggily, but there wasn't any time to think of something better, so it would have to do. At least it involved family, he rationalised, and congratulated himself on the degree of dissociation he'd managed to achieve in just a few short seconds.

"Stand aside." A lazy, slightly weary baritone broke into his little hell.

The vampire snarled. "Like hell I—" The challenge broke off abruptly into a sort of strangled sound, like a particularly nonplussed housecat, and Yugi opened his eyes to see her staring down the alleyway away from him, her face contorted in fear.

"Your Highness," she gasped.

"Good to know I am not _entirely_ forgotten by my subjects," the indolent voice continued, a rather reproving note slipping in. Yugi turned his head and saw—he caught sight of the eyes, _great, another vampire_—

'Your Highness'. But…that was the correct address for the Pharaoh! That would be a _bit _too improbably convenient for real life, surely?

Yes, surely; his pupils (and terrifyingly enough, he was close enough now that Yugi could see them) were the tiniest of black lines bisecting his irises, a vampiric reaction to sunlight, and the Pharaoh was supposed to be immune to sunlight. Of course, vampire eyes did that when they were thirsty, too—

_Oh._

Yugi suddenly wondered if he wasn't in for worse luck _now _than he had been when it was only this one, nameless assailant, who was currently nearly cowering in fear. She shrank away from the approaching king and, to Yugi's relief, from _him._

"But Your Highness, he's untagged!" she protested all the same. "And I found him, so he's mine by the right of the Hunt."

The Pharaoh sighed, crossing his arms and shaking his head. A slight smirk crossed his features as he said, "The Hunt doesn't begin until after midnight, Miss…?"

The other vampire flushed faintly at the condescension in the Pharaoh's voice (Yugi tried not to think about _whose _blood that was flooding her face with red) and said "Candace."

He'd been about to be eaten by a vampire named Candace. _Candace._ It just seemed wrong. So _innocuous._

"Candace. Surely you knew that?" The Vampire King raised an eyebrow.

"I—I don't…it's dark?" she hazarded, not seeming terribly hopeful.

The Pharaoh looked faintly amused. "I'm not sure _dark _is quite the word, but I'll grant _overcast._ Madam, the Hunt exists as it does for two reasons: to afford vampires the chance of seeking true prey, and to give even those humans not fortunate enough to be tagged freedom of movement through the evening hours. We are _predators, _not _oppressors._" Now, he was just stern. "I'd appreciate it if you kept that in mind—for your own sake, as well. Or did you _want _to bring hunters down on yourself? They too move freely when the Hunt is on."

Candace seemed to fold in on herself even further at the mention of hunters. _La Société pour l'Évaluation et l'Élimination des Dangers*_, which hadn't been referred to as SEED since 1999 for copyright reasons, had existed long before their authority was established and their organisation acknowledged and given a fancy name. Once upon a time, they had been called hunters, because that was what they did: they hunted vampires. In these modern times, they were still called hunters, because no matter what spin _La Société _tried to put on it, that was still what they did. Just not on paper.

Honestly, ethical concerns aside, Yugi wouldn't really have minded one showing up just about then.

"I did not mean," Candace whispered, but faltered, staring at the ground.

The Pharaoh spoke a bit more gently then. "Calm yourself. I do not mean you harm. Since…" At last, he turned his gaze on Yugi. The student really hoped he was imagining the way the elder vampire's fingers twitched almost as if to grasp, the slight flicker of a tongue over pale lips.

"Yugi," he whispered in reply, and to his relief the Pharaoh turned away again, to face Candace.

"…Yugi is unharmed, and you are still young enough to know little better, you may go. From now on, however, I shall be quite certain you have _learned _better. Do _not_ attempt to circumvent my laws again." The Pharaoh waved a hand in dismissal. "Eternity keep you."

"As you have been kept, Your Highness," she bowed. And then, with only a single longing glance at Yugi, Candace left. He watched her go, the way a rabbit watches a fox depart.

"You _are _unharmed, I trust?"

Yugi startled and turned around. The Pharaoh still stood halfway down the alley, watching him expectantly. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. Didn't see she was a vampire until too late—daytime but no sort of shade or—maybe she had sunscreen. I don't know. Stupid of me. But I mean, who jumps someone right next to a hospital?"

Yugi became aware that he was babbling, and shut up.

"It was reckless of her. She placed both herself and any of her potential victims in needless peril." The Pharaoh paused, then suddenly said "You're a student, right? Came here for a renewal?"

"Yes, that's right," Yugi replied, figuring that that was safe enough. This whole thing was awkward in the extreme (and those eyes still worried him), but he couldn't quite figure out how to get away.

"In the future, you would be wise to risk waiting an extra day rather than venturing out in such weather." The Pharaoh drew closer, terrible red eyes fixed on Yugi's; unreadable, but unmistakably _hungry_. There was something different about the vampire's movement now; predatory yet slow, smooth, drifting towards him almost as though in a dream—though whether it was the Pharaoh's fantasy or Yugi's nightmare was anyone's guess. A tiny thread of incredulity slipped through the human's rising fear: Really? After he'd _just _disciplined hapless Candace for trying this. _Really?_

"One of the disadvantages of tagging," the Pharaoh continued softly, low silken fascinated voice belying the clinical words, "is that it is quite easy to track an untagged human down and for some, no matter the law, the temptation is…"

Yugi's breath quickened as the Pharaoh stopped barely a foot away from him, ruby eyes trailing over his body and focusing on his neck.

"…_irresistible,"_ the vampire finished in a husky murmur.

_Run. Run!_ Yugi's mind screamed as the vampire's pupils abruptly dilated, but for some reason his instincts weren't in agreement, beguiled by—by _something_, something science-y and he knew what it was but he was too muddled, his baser drives giving rise to insidious whispers that drowned out all rational thought. _Stay_, they entreated. _Closer. Smooth skin and sweet lips and dark eyes and honey-voice…_

_...Touch—_

—_Hold—_

—_Close..._

Yugi found himself leaning forward. The Pharaoh placed a strong, chill hand on the small of his back and pulled him close against himself, his lips parting slightly to reveal the tips of two tiny, wicked, needle-sharp fangs. His darkening eyes were half-lidded, almost entranced. His other hand snaked up and twined in Yugi's hair, tilting his head back ever so slightly, and slowly, so very slowly he bent down as if to kiss…the hand at Yugi's waist deftly caressed his hip, sending a ripple of pleasure through him and then—

_—_Warm breath on his skin soft lips at his throat_—_

___—_sharp_—_!

Suddenly Yugi found himself stumbling for balance, reaching out for the bricked wall of the building beside the hospital. As he struggled for breath, he looked around the alley and saw the Pharaoh standing against the opposite wall some paces away with one hand to his forehead, as though he had a headache.

"I am…sorry…I have left feeding too long. This is…inexcusable." He waved a hand. "You'd best go." Suddenly he wavered, narrowly avoiding collapsing on the cobbles.

Feeling numb, Yugi nodded quickly and turned to go, but as he reached the mouth of the alley, he looked back. The Pharaoh, thinking himself alone, was now slumped against the alley wall with his head in his hands.

_I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures which are required…_

He didn't look like a predator anymore, not frightening or impressive or majestic or any of the things Yugi might have called him minutes earlier. He just looked miserable, exhausted, and utterly alone.

Yugi came to a decision. He was a medical student, right?—or pre-med, sure, but still. A doctor at heart. And the doctor in him didn't see the vampire who'd nearly fed on him, but a very sick man in pain and in need of help. He imagined, just for a moment, his friend Marik berating him for being a _bleeding-heart goody-two-shoes, _but banished the image. Everyone had the right to do something stupid and/or borderline suicidal at least once in their lifetime, right?

"Come on." Yugi walked over to the vampire and took hold of his arm. The muscles under his hands instantly tensed and the Pharaoh looked up at him sharply, startled.

"Let go," he snapped the words out, and without even thinking Yugi instantly obeyed, reacting to the intensity of the demand.

_I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow beings…_

"You need help," Yugi said, standing in front of the fallen man and crossing his arms. "I don't think you can make it inside on your own and correct me if I'm wrong, but you can't really afford to be seen like this, can you, _Pharaoh_?"

He laughed shortly. "Not really. Ra only knows what the others might get up to if they think I'm not able to keep an eye on them."

"That's what I thought." Yugi extended his hand slowly this time, waiting for the Pharaoh to take it. There was a long moment's pause before he did so, his pale, icy hand looking odd clenched protectively in Yugi's smaller, warm one. With some assistance the vampire stood, leaning heavily on the student's shoulder.

Yugi began to help the Pharaoh out of the alleyway, in the opposite direction from where they'd entered. "My apartment's only a block away—I know how to get there without walking too many crowded streets. I've got access to one of the med labs at the university; once I get you somewhere safe, I can bring you something to drink."

_May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling…_

The Pharaoh glanced sideways at the young student, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "A whole block alone with a hungry vampire mere inches away? Aren't you the brave one."

"Yeah, tell me about it. Hey, do you have a name?"

"Not really; not anymore. Lately, I've been called Yami."

…_and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help…_

"Nice to meet you, Yami. I'm Yugi Motou."

* * *

_*Threat Assessment and Elimination Society_

_**A/N: Question: Why is Yami immune to sunlight?**_

_**Answer: Same reason the primary deity of the Egyptian religion a ton of vampires practice is a sun god. One of the epithets for a king of Egypt was **_**'Si Ra'**_** or 'Son of Ra' (which was meant, incidentally, both figuratively **_**and literally**_** if you can believe it) indicating a connection to the sun. Since in **_**Yu-Gi-Oh**_** the Egyptian gods are seen to be, in some capacity, real, albeit acting more like magical forces than actual personified deities, it seemed to make sense to have the Pharaoh be immune to the debilitating effects of sunlight due to the inherent solar association of his position.**_

_**Reviews are loved. My precioussssss...**_


	5. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

**Not the Kind of Import You're Thinking Of**

_**Thursday: -7 Days**_

"Joey, a little help here?"

Joey looked up from the TV screen and saw his roommate standing in the door of their apartment, doing his best to support an unfamiliar, slightly taller man in expensive clothes who seemed well on the way to passing out.

"Yug'?" Joey tapped the middle of his Xbox controller and jumped up, putting an arm around the stranger's waist. Yugi sighed in relief as the majority of the weight was taken off of him.

"C'mon, let's get him to the couch," Yugi said, leading the way. The man was still conscious enough that once they got him there, he could sit down on his own, limply curling his upper body up against the soft arm of the couch.

"My thanks," he managed, once again resting his head in his hands. Yugi nodded.

"No problem. Joey, come with me for a minute?" He tilted his head towards the kitchen and Joey nodded. Yugi led him in, leaning against the fridge in exhaustion.

"Yug', what's goin' on?" Joey asked. "Who's he?"

"He's called Yami. I need you to keep an eye on him while I get him some—thing, get him something," Yugi amended quickly.

Joey's brow furrowed. "You in some kinda trouble, man?"

"No—but I would be if it weren't for him," Yugi said truthfully. Joey could tell it by the way the smaller man looked at him—not trying to stare him down or avoid his gaze, but just _looking_.

Something clicked in Joey's brain. "You got jumped by a vampire. Dang it, Yug', your license ain't _still _expired, is it?"

Yugi looked away. "I—Rebecca needed hers, okay? Way more than I did. So yeah. I got 'jumped'. He scared her off."

"_Scared _her? He a Hunter or something?"

Yugi bit his lip. "N-no," he admitted.

"But then—" Joey cut himself off and glanced around the doorway at Yami. He had opened his eyes and was staring up at the ceiling, but Joey could still see how red they were. He ducked swiftly back into the kitchen.

"A _vampire_? You brought a freaking _vampire _home?" he whisper-shouted.

"I couldn't just _leave _him, he was hurting!"

"Dat's what ya say when ya bring a _puppy _home, or a kitten, or _something_ cute an' fluffy, not your own natural predator!"

"He _kept_ me from getting bitten!" Yugi decided not to mention the part where Yami had, in turn, tried to bite him—after all, he hadn't _meant _to, right? "And it was a younger vampire he scared off! She might've drained me on accident!" _Or on purpose. _"I owe him _something._ It's not like I'm going to let him bite me, I'm just going to get him something out of one of the med lab fridges, okay?"

"Ain't that illegal?" Joey asked rhetorically, sounding sceptical.

"I…yeah, I know. But he needs help and, and I _can _help, so…" Yugi trailed off lamely. "I couldn't just leave him like that, even if he hadn't saved me. I'm not that kind of person."

"No," Joey agreed, the sight of tiny 14-year-old Yugi using his own body to shield a couple of ungrateful bullies still fresh in his mind. "You're not."

He bit his lip, glancing towards the doorway. "…Fine. But if he tries anything, I'm stakin' his ass."

"No, you _can't_ do that," Yugi said urgently.

"Pretty sure I can," Joey disagreed firmly. "S'in the laws—_vamp _laws. Vamp tries to chomp on ya an' you're tagged, you can use lethal force to fight 'em off. Self-defence. I wrote a freakin' _paper _on that, Yug', trust me. I know."

"Joey, if you kill him, there won't _be _any laws! He's the Pharaoh!"

Joey's gold-brown eyes widened. "You're kiddin' me."

Yugi shook his head. "Nuh-uh."

"The King a Vampires is sittin' on my couch."

"This coming from the guy who _got into a shouting match _with the vampire High Lord in our junior year of high school," Yugi pointed out.

"His limo hit Tristan's bike!"

"Yeah, after a four-door sedan hit his limo."

Joey growled under his breath. "He still didn't have t'be such a jerk about it. Okay, fine, but don't _think _I'll spare the holy water. I don't care _who_ this guy is, I'm _not _gonna be vamp food. Better?"

Yugi smiled gratefully. "Much. I don't feel like being the guy who kicked off vampiric anarchy, do you?"

"Guess not. Rather have the laws than have vamps bitin' people left and right," Joey agreed grudgingly. He cast another wary glance at the doorway. "Just—make it quick, huh? He's lookin' hungry."

"Thanks, Joey."

Joey followed Yugi back out into the living room and hung back a little as Yugi crossed to the couch. "I'm gonna go get you something to drink, okay?"

Yami nodded slowly, his eyes drifting closed.

Yugi reached out tentatively and laid a comforting hand on top of Yami's. "You're like ice! Try not to strain yourself, okay? I'll be right back."

Once Yugi left, Joey came all the way back into the room and cleared his throat. Yami cracked his eyes open and looked at him—_I'm listening,_ the look seemed to say.

"Hey. I'm Joey. Yugi's roommate. Uh…d'you mind if I—" He gestured vaguely towards the TV and Xbox.

Yami waved a hand lazily in a gesture that Joey took as _do whatever._

"Cool."

Joey went back to trying out his new game. It was an older one he'd found in the discount bin—all he could really afford on a college student's budget—_Soul Calibur IV_. Story Mode hadn't been too bad, and he'd cleared five floors of Tower of Lost Souls, but now he was trying Arcade Mode and truth be told, Joey was getting frustrated.

On his fifth attempt (his last having failed yet again on the eighth stage) a deep, tired voice broke into his silent fuming. "You're playing that one wrong."

"Am _not_, it's just that this game is _stupid!"_ Joey startled as he suddenly realised who must have spoken. He'd just talked back to the Vampire King.

Oops.

He heard the sounds of movement behind him, and he looked up to see Yami settling down beside him. The vampire held out a hand. "May I?"

Joey glanced from the hand to his controller and back. "What the hell," he said, and handed it over.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Yugi returned with a paper bag in one hand and was greeted by the sight of Joey staring open-mouthed at the TV screen, a controller hanging limply in his hand.

"So my defeating the Apprentice was 'just a fluke'?" Yami said dryly, raising an eyebrow at the blond.

Yugi looked at the screen and fought the urge to let his own jaw drop, or start laughing.

"Thirteen KO's to zero?" he queried. "In what, twenty minutes?"

"Eight," Joey corrected, putting his controller down.

Yugi blinked. "E-eight?" He looked over to Yami.

"You said not to strain myself," the vampire pointed out, smirking slightly. Yugi's shock gave way to concern as he registered how quiet and tired his voice still sounded, despite the humorous tone.

"I'll get you a glass," he said, heading into the kitchen. In actuality, he ended up reaching down a mug, remembering just in time that while he was by now used to seeing blood in test tubes and beakers and wounds and Yami, of course, had doubtless gotten over any blood issues he ever had _millennia _ago, Joey would probably be completely grossed out if he could actually see it.

Yami accepted the mug with a faint smile, raised it briefly in a whimsical toast, and knocked it back like it was coffee after a four-in-the-morning-wakeup. Yugi supposed that thousands of years of practice came in handy, because while the mug came back down empty, not a single drop of its former contents could be seen on or around the vampire's lips.

"My thanks, Yugi," he said warmly. Yugi was gratified to hear that his voice was getting stronger already. He could tell there was meant to be power in that voice; it was somehow _wrong _otherwise.

"No problem," Yugi replied, smiling.

There was a brief pause as the Vampire King turned the mug gently in his hands. "I should probably go."

"Actually, you should probably wait until true sunset," Yugi amended. "That way you can be certain it's all through your system and minimise the signs of withdrawal."

Yami tilted his head slightly, the beginnings of a frown showing, and Joey laughed. "Yug' here's pre-med. Took most of his Paranormal focus classes last quarter."

"And thus, you had access to the medical labs. Of course, I should have realised. Well, doctor's orders," the Pharaoh quipped. "You're quite right, it would likely be best to wait for sundown, not that that makes much difference. It would seem I'll be here for the next, oh…" He cocked his head. "Five, six minutes?"

Joey glanced at the window. "Huh, doesn't look like it'll be that long."

Yami followed his gaze, and his brow furrowed. "You're right."

_His time-sense is off?_

Then Yugi noticed a slight _shift_ in the vampire's features. A few moments later, he realised what it had been. Yami's eyes were changing, the bloody vampiric red slowly giving way to another colour.

_Nocturnochromia._ Night-colour. A phenomenon observed in all non-heliophobic vampires. Since the night was a vampire's natural hunting environment, in order to make them less obvious to their prey their eye colour would revert to whatever it had been as a human once the sun went down.

In the Pharaoh's case, a beautiful deep indigo-violet shade surprisingly similar to Yugi's—a little darker, a little bluer, but undeniably purple.

"And that, I believe, was my cue to exit stage left." Yami set the mug down (on a coaster, Yugi registered gratefully; Joey had yet to master coasters) and inclined his head regally to Yugi.

"I won't forget this, Yugi. There are…not many who would act thus, finding me as you did. To meet you was truly an honour."

Yugi blushed faintly. "Ah, you're welcome. Y-you needed help, I just…" He shrugged and blushed even more as the Pharaoh gave him a gentle, genuine (and though Yugi wasn't to know it, all too _rare_) smile in return, an expression that seemed to fill the entire room with light.

"Acted with decency and integrity. Would that more could say the same." Yami turned to Joey, who had once again paused his game and was stretching. "You, _practice," _the vampire pointed.

"'Ey, I'll have you know dat I'm _good _at dis game," Joey said defensively. Yami smirked.

"But not, I'm afraid, quite good enough. Still," he added thoughtfully. "You _did _keep my score below an average of two KO's per minute and there _was_ that round where it took me a full minute and ten…"

Joey snorted. "Now you're just screwin' wit' me."

"A little, yes." A laugh threatened, but never managed to manifest beyond a slight twitching of the vampire's lips as he crossed to the door of the apartment and opened it. "Good evening, Yugi. Joey."

"'Bye, Yami," Joey grinned, before turning back to his game.

Yugi went over to the door as well, taking the knob in his hand as Yami released it. "Take care, Yami," he said softly as the vampire slipped into the hall.

Yami smiled slightly. "I shall." He reached out, his fingertips lightly brushing the young student's cheek in the very faintest of caresses. "And you, likewise." His dark violet eyes were soft, almost tender. Then, before Yugi could do much more than blink, he was gone.

"I like him," Joey said cheerfully as Yugi shut the door. "I thought all vamp royals'd be like _Mr Kaiba sir_, y'know? Bitchy entitled prima-donnas."

"The bike thing was _not his fault,"_ Yugi groaned. "Please, just let it go already…"

It would be a long night for Yugi. The predatory beguilement from the alleyway, the weary charm from the walk home, the chivalrous warmth from the apartment, and the single touch of a hand that somehow made the three seem one…his mind whirled trying to puzzle it all out. His last exhausted thoughts before he slipped at last into sleep were of good-natured disgust at his own obsessing, and a quiet disgruntlement underlying hazy far-too-hot visions of possessive hands and hungry lips and tangled limbs and breathlessness; half-memory, half-fantasy. Disgruntlement, because he'd been _so _sure that Duke was going to be the token bisexual of the group and now that there was _him _as well, what next? Joey and Seto Kaiba suddenly confessing undying love for each other?

In the end, his dreams that night were of Mai Valentine and Seto Kaiba battling to the death for Joey Wheeler's heart. Forget almost getting eaten by vampires; it would probably take cranial trauma to fix the wound _that _etched in his psyche…

* * *

"Where the hell have you been?"

Yami paused in the doorway for a moment and decided that there should be light. A lamp flicked on, illuminating the room before him. Bookshelves lined the dark-panelled walls, filled with volumes of all shapes and sizes and subjects. The library was two stories high, the upper floor consisting of a similarly bookshelf-lined balcony. Towards the back of the room was a desk, and in front of that desk sat—

"Kaiba." Yami stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"My job." The young vampire stood and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at him. Yami supressed a sigh. Seto Kaiba had all the zeal and fire of the Pharaoh's former high priest and cousin, but he was never quite as…_amicable _as Seth had been. But then, reincarnation was a bitch that way.

Slowly, the Pharaoh paced deeper into the library, circling the desk and seating himself behind it. After all, it _was _his desk. And his library, and his house, come to that.

"Sometimes I wonder, Kaiba, exactly what it is you feel your job entails."

"Tonight, it involves keeping track of _you_. I was expecting you back here two hours ago. What took you so long?"

"I was under the impression that you were still in Domino tending to matters at your company's headquarters. Since that would put you on the opposite side of the country, I understandably didn't expect you'd be awaiting me so impatiently," Yami said testily.

"And then some stuff came up here in New York and I came back. It's not astrophysics. Do you think I have the time to waste here—"

Yami's temper flared. "You forget your place, _boy._ This is not your company, it is the home of your _king_ and you are out of line!"

Kaiba backed off, raising his hands in submission. "Your Highness."

The Pharaoh sighed and waved a hand, gesturing the wealthy CEO back into his chair, chagrined at his own lack of restraint. "No matter. I am here now. What was it you needed to speak with me about?"

"Other way 'round," Kaiba clarified, somewhat snidely—he never was terribly fazed by the Pharaoh's temper. "You wanted a report, remember? I checked in at San Francisco while I was away. Pegasus still hasn't made a move. I'm not sure he isn't planning something, though—I took the time to sample some of his company's records while I was there—"

Yami winced. "Kaiba, please. You know better than to _tell_ me you've broken the law."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Kaiba said dismissively. "He's been scheduling a _lot_ of shipments that haven't been cleared through Customs. Even if he did run his company corrupt—which, annoyingly, he doesn't—that's a big risk for a little extra profit off the top and Pegasus is already rolling in it."

"And he already acquires a significant bonus in the form of the profits from his artwork," the Pharaoh added thoughtfully, frowning. "This will bear thinking about."

"Why not just take the Eye off of him _before_ he starts anything?" Kaiba suggested. "Isn't that kind of the obvious answer?"

"Because the only way to take an Item from its rightful bearer is to kill them," Yami replied, "and I am unwilling to kill a man who is, as yet, innocent."

"_Rightful_ bearer? He stole it!"

"As the Thief King stole the Ring, yet to this day he is its master. He has it, and he lives. That is proof enough."

"Oh _God,"_ Kaiba groaned. "It's a _gold eyeball_. How is it supposed to kill him—do me a favour and don't answer that," he added hastily, holding up his hand to forestall Yami's response.

The Pharaoh closed his mouth and shrugged. "As you like. Let us simply hope Pegasus's possession of the Eye has not granted him true mastery over it. Otherwise, he knows of our interest and none of our information can truly be trusted."

"Knows…? You are not _seriously_ telling me you believe that _thing_ tells the future," Kaiba said, looking very much irritated.

"Of course not. That would be ridiculous."

"Exactl—"

"Why would anyone make an Item with a duplicate ability?" Yami went on blithely. "The Millennium _Necklace_ allows the wearer to perceive the future. The Millennium _Eye_ grants the ability to sense thoughts."

Slowly, Kaiba shook his head. _"Fucking _fairy-tales," he muttered under his breath. "Whatever," he said, more audibly. "Look, the other thing is—"

"So you _did _wish to speak with me," Yami interrupted, a touch smug. He promptly found himself on the receiving end of the patented Kaiba Glare, a calibre of frigid stare that not even Yami personally was capable of. Fortunately, even if he couldn't claim that ability, he at least boasted an immunity to it.

"Look, just let me talk, okay, _Your Highness?"_ Kaiba waited a moment, but Yami remained quiet. _"Thank you._ There's something I need to go over with you—not here." He seemed slightly evasive now. "My office downtown. Say Monday? Around twoish? In the afternoon."

"Daylight hours?" He looked surprised.

"Reasons," Kaiba replied dismissively.

"…It will do," Yami agreed, eyes narrowing slightly as though hoping he could divine Kaiba's secret just by looking. Though many preferred to insinuate more sordid things, the Pharaoh's great vice was indisputably curiosity, and it was getting quite a workout today.

"Wow. Really? You're agreeing? Just like that?" It was hard to tell if Kaiba was being sarcastic or not.

"Just like that. I have quite a bit of paperwork I really should get done before the weekend in any case; tomorrow would be ill-suited for me as well and as for Tuesday—well, let's just say I've developed a certain _distaste _for wasting time. Monday it is." Thus decided, the Pharaoh leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and fixing his eyes on the middle distance. When he spoke again, it was to utter the last name Kaiba expected to hear from him: "…Bakhu'ra."

Kaiba's eyes narrowed. "The thief?"

"Indeed. I was debating inducting him into the Court."

"You are fucking _kidding_ me."

"Language."

"The Shadow Court is, you know, the local vampire legislators and key international personnel. That does _not _sound like _Bakura,"_ he said scornfully. _"Why?"_

Yami shrugged. "He is my sire. And, due to the stigma his name bears among our people, he never has been fully recognised for his actions in the last war."

"You mean the stigma he has because of _wanting your head on a pike?"_ From the incredulously shrill tone in which Kaiba asked this, Yami decided it had likely been a rhetorical question.

"That has ceased to be an issue."

"What do you mean?" Kaiba narrowed his eyes. "What aren't you telling me, Pharaoh?"

"There's quite a lot I don't tell anyone," Yami replied. "You've no need to feel left out."

"_Pharaoh—"_

"All you need know is that he has ceased to be a threat to me or my Court. It is a matter for another day, I fear."

And that, of course, was that. With a sharp, irritated exhale, Kaiba repeated his first question: "So where _were_ you?"

"That is irrelevant," Yami said briskly, turning his attention to some of the papers on his desk. "Please do send in Ishizu, won't you? She should have arrived by now."

"What? She's coming? _Great._ Why the hell did I have to come in and report on the same day as her? You _know _we don't—"

"My thanks, Kaiba," the Pharaoh interrupted. "You may go. Eternity keep you."

"Oh, may I really?" Kaiba said sarcastically, getting up and lifting his briefcase from beside his chair. He sighed. "As you have been kept. Or not, I really don't give a damn."

"Naturally."

Moments after Kaiba left, a small Egyptian woman slipped through the still-open door, long dark hair hanging far down her back, dressed in a conservative cream-coloured gown that made her look more than ever like the priestess Yami had known in life, millennia ago.

_Peace to you eternally, Isis..._

"Ishizu."

The seer bowed. "Good evening, my Pharaoh. I trust you are well?"

"I am no worse."

Ishizu's brow furrowed, and she stepped closer. "Come into the light," she instructed, for in his position behind the lamp on the desk he was barely more than a silhouette to her.

Yami obeyed, circling the desk until he stood before her. Her aqua-blue eyes narrowed as she inspected him, reaching out to touch his hand as Yugi had done earlier.

"You have fed," she stated.

"I have."

"But the blood was not fresh…though I can scent a human upon you."

Yami averted his eyes, taking a step back from the seer. "It is unimportant."

Ishizu raised an eyebrow. "I think not, by your reaction."

The Pharaoh turned away and returned to his desk, resting his hands on the polished surface and gazing at the coloured glass of the lamp, lit softly from within. "You were human once, Ishizu, and not long ago."

Ishizu waited, knowing she didn't need to reply.

"Yet since you were old enough to understand such things, you knew it was your fate to become vampire. Despite this, had you...fear, of our kind?"

The seer was silent a moment more, before saying quietly, "The only vampire I knew was my father. You know what sort of man he was. I feel I would not be incorrect, Pharaoh, if I were to say that prior to your intervention, I did not merely have _fear_ of our kind, but a positive _dread._"

"A greater fear, even, than most humans have of us. Yet they do fear us."

"As is only natural."

"Then tell me, Ishizu, as a human, on finding a vampire alone, weak, dare I say helpless—one of the creatures that feed off of you and your kind and think this parasitism not merely natural, but even _pleasurable_—if he had, however unwittingly, attempted to feed upon _you—_what, then, would you do?"

Ishizu carefully examined the sharp, shadowed planes of his face. "What did _this_ human do?"

"He began to leave. Then he turned towards me again, helped me to stand, led me from the alley. Led me to his _home_. He made me comfortable, brought me sustenance, he—he _helped_ me, putting his own safety at risk, expecting nothing in return—" Yami cut himself off, bringing a hand up to his forehead. "It simply makes no sense."

Hesitantly, Ishizu stepped forward. "There _are_ kind-hearted people left in the world, my Pharaoh—human and vampire alike." She rested a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the brief tensing of the muscle there. "Did you ask him why he helped?"

"I did not dare." Yami was quiet for a moment. "He has yet to acquire a renewal on his license. I wish no harm to come to him before he does."

"Ask and it shall be done, my Pharaoh. Do you know his name?"

"Yugi. Yugi Motou."

"Understood," Ishizu nodded.

"Have you had any more visions of late?" the Pharaoh asked, looking up at her. "Kaiba's intelligence is greatly useful to me, but certainties…well, I need hardly worry that I might find something unpleasant in my future, do I?"

Ishizu stiffened. "And will the great Lord Kaiba accept what I have to say?" she asked coolly, and Yami sighed.

"I do wish the two of you would get along…"

"I am not Isis. He is not Seth. We do not get along," Ishizu said bluntly, and the Pharaoh shook his head.

"I know you're not. But you _are _both royals. My…" He laughed. "My family, or the closest thing I have to one. It saddens me that you dislike each other so."

"It saddens me that he is an arrogant close-minded condescending _ass,"_ she growled, and Yami laughed.

"Well, _yes._ The trick is to like him _despite _all of that."

"I could never like anyone _despite _their natures. Only because of. And because of Kaiba's, I dislike him. That is all," Ishizu said in her very best this-discussion-is-closed tone.

"Fair enough," the Pharaoh sighed. "But returning to my question."

"No, I have not. I am sorry."

"No need to apologise," Yami informed her. "It was only a thought."

Ishizu nodded acknowledgment, but her blue eyes were soft and sad, and Yami laid a hand on her arm.

"It isn't your fault, Ishizu," he said quietly. "None of it is."

She looked away. "By your leave?"

"Ishizu—"

"By your leave, Your Highness?"

Ever so slightly, the Pharaoh seemed to pull inward, and he dropped his hand. "You have my leave. Eternity keep you."

"As you have been kept," she said, very quickly, and left.

* * *

_**A/N: Since the Pharaoh is, y'know, still alive in this universe, Dual Monsters doesn't exist. Pegasus runs the family business and is also a successful artist. Just as a by-the-by.**_

_**And yeah, a) the bullies Joey's remembering were himself and Tristan and b) it is impossible in any world for Joey and Kaiba to not meet and start mentally reprising **_**"What Is This Feeling?"**_**.**_

_**Review if you have time, or inclination, or whatever. Meanwhile, I'm about to be late for class. Guh, college.**_


	6. Chapter Four

_**A/N: Did you know it's possible to get lost on a campus where you've been attending university for two and a half years? I learned that today! Since twelve minutes late sounded an awful lot like too late to walk into class, here's chapter four. Also: language warning. On so many levels. I endorse neither excessive swearing nor persistent usage or misuage of **_**kawaii **_**and associated words, though I am often guilty of the former and have committed the latter for lulz in the chapter title. Enjoy! Read! Review! Or not! But preferably! Shutting up now!**_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**She's So **_**Kawaii**_**, Oh So **_**Kawaii**_**, She is **_**Kawaii**_** and Slightly Absurd…**

_**Or, **_**The Plot Arrives**

_**Friday: -6 Days**_

The next day was cloudy again and Yugi cursed, knowing he'd have to ask Joey to come with him to the hospital today. That gave him an hour he needed to wait, since while Yugi's last class today had ended at four-thirty, Joey's didn't end until five-thirty. Or was it six? Five-fifty-five? Yugi sighed, kicking a bit of loose stone in his path as he walked back towards the Registrar's Office (if he had to spend time sitting and waiting for Joey, why not risk the walk and spare them both the time later?) with his backpack hanging neatly over both shoulders, his hands in his pockets. It was bad enough having to admit that his license had expired, but this wasn't high school. He shouldn't need someone to follow him around and keep him from getting beaten up anymore!

Speaking of which…

Yugi ducked into a gap between buildings, pulling back into the shadows well away from the sapling that grew there, knowing the tree would only draw attention and in turn, draw attention to _him_. He didn't have to wait long before his stalker showed himself—or rather, _herself._ A young teenager with long pale hair tied up in a yellow ribbon stopped and raised her face to the sky as though sniffing the air.

A vampire, then—yes, he could see her a little more clearly now; her eyes were red. But he'd been alone and un-witnessed for some time. Why hadn't she already gone for him?

The girl turned and followed Yugi's path into the small yard, walking right past the twenty-one-year-old. She stopped when she reached the sapling and looked around in confusion for a moment, before shrugging and turning back to the tree. It was a redbud, and the ruddy purple flowers were in full bloom. Smiling, the girl plucked a sprig from the tree and tucked it into the top button-hole of her open yellow cardigan.

"Pretty!" she exclaimed happily, before a look of horror crossed her face and she looked about anxiously, as though wondering if she'd been heard.

Yugi began to wonder just how much of a threat this girl really was, vampire or no. Clad in a white sundress paired with yellow ankle boots and a matching sweater, she looked more like a girl on her way to Sunday school than anything. She also had a yellow-and-white umbrella with some kind of black design on it slung over her back like on a baldric cord, which Yugi wondered about for a moment before realising that it probably served the same purpose as the more fashionable parasols many heliotolerant vampire women liked to carry: shade from the sun. Appearances could be deceiving, he knew, but while he didn't trust this girl, he certainly wasn't afraid of her _or _her umbrella. So he stood up, walked towards her a few paces, and asked "Why are you following me?"

The girl gasped and wheeled around, her hand clapped to her mouth. "Oh! Miho is caught!"

Yugi blinked. "Well…I'm not sure how to tell you this, but you're not exactly stealthy."

She hung her head, her shoulders drooping inwards. "Miho is _not_ stealthy! Miho is the worst following-person _ever!_ Miho _said _so but Miho's lady insisted!" Her voice sounded even younger than she looked (and she couldn't have been much older than 15-year-old Rebecca, unless she'd gotten stuck with the same kind of genes Yugi had), the sort of thing Yugi would have expected from a girl of seven or eight.

"Wait, who's this _lady_? Did she order you to follow me, Miho?"

She looked surprised. "How did you know Miho's name?"

Yugi sighed. "Lucky guess."

"Yes, Miho's lady ordered it. Miho serves the Lady Ishtar at the temple! Miho tends the shrine to Ma'at. But Ishtar-_sama_ came this morning and asked Miho to find you and not talk to you, but follow and make sure you were okay!" Miho beamed.

Yugi frowned. "She wanted you to _protect_ me? Is Lady Ishtar a vampire?" _Ishtar? I didn't think that was such a common name…_

Miho nodded, an action which somehow involved her whole body and made her ponytail flip upside-down briefly. "Ishtar-_sama_ is High Priestess!"

"But why would the vampire High Priestess—" Yugi cut himself off. "Miho?"

"_Hai?"_

_Japanese. Huh. I wonder if she's from Domino, or Japan, or somewhere else entirely. _"Does Lady Ishtar know the Pharaoh?"

Miho giggled. "Of course she does! Yami-_sama_ gave Ishtar-_sama_ orders to order Miho! Or not Miho, Miho thinks that was Ishtar-_sama'_s decision and," she was pouting now, "it was the wrong one! But Ishtar-_sama_ is not supposed to be wrong, so why did she choose Miho for a mission Miho wasn't sneaky enough for? Miho can fight, Miho supposes," she added, looking at the ground and mumbling slightly, as though talking to herself, "but Miho was supposed to stay hidden and only fight if Yugi-_san_ was in danger."

Yugi's mind was spinning. Yami—the _Pharaoh, _the Vampire King himself—had ordered someone to follow him. But…why? They'd met, and Yugi had done his job—or what _would_ be his job, one day—and then Yami had left. That was the end of it, right?

So why would Yami have someone follow him now? It didn't make any sense!

Still, he felt bad for Miho, who was plainly miserable (in-between her cheerful moments as her personality broke through) over having failed in part of her assigned task. She obviously held this Lady Ishtar in high regard and wanted to please her mentor. So he said, "Hey, I was just going up to the Registrar's Office to apply for a renewal. Why don't you come with me? I bet Lady Ishtar would be proud to know that you found a way to…protect me _without_ having to sneak around."

Miho brightened. "Really? Yugi-_san_ will let me do this?"

Yugi shrugged, and couldn't hold back a smile of his own. "Sure! And hey, I'll call you Miho_-chan_ if you'll call me Yugi-_kun_."

She beamed. "Of course, Yugi-_kun_! To the, _ano_, office-place!"

"And then the hospital," Yugi added as they left the little yard and resumed the path to the Registrar's Office. Now that she was no longer trying to hide, Miho un-slung her umbrella from her back and opened it for more protection against the admittedly barely-visible sun. Now that it wasn't furled up anymore, Yugi could see that the entire surface of the umbrella depicted a large daisy, with the petals extending to the very edge of the umbrella. She leaned it against her right shoulder like a parasol, twirling it gently back and forth as she walked.

"Miho doesn't like the hospital," Miho confided. "Miho buys her drinks from there because Miho doesn't like to hurt people, even if they want to let Miho take them. But the hospital is filled with hurting people. It makes Miho sad."

"I don't like it when people hurt either," Yugi agreed. "That's why I'm studying to become a doctor."

"Doc…tor?" Miho blinked. "Oh! Miho knows those!" She smiled, but it looked a little sad. "Miho was friends with a doctor before. He helped Miho after Miho was Turned."

Yugi wondered. In the past, most vampires were Turned on accident, or as a way of saving a life after nothing else could be done—if that was what the person in question wanted. These days, most new vampires had gotten Turned deliberately. But if Miho wasn't fond of the lifestyle, why had she been Turned?

"How did you become a vampire, Miho-_chan?"_

"Oh, it was a very long time ago." Miho looked away. "Miho doesn't normally talk about it…but Yugi-_kun_ is Miho's friend. Miho served Taira no Kiyomori. Then he died and Miho served his son. Then the Minamoto clan went to fight them and the Hōjō clan took over. Miho became vampire to serve some vampires in the family. Then the Ashikaga clan defeated them and Miho passed to them. Then—"

"Wait, the Kiyomori-Minamoto conflict?" Yugi stopped walking and stared at her. "Miho, that—that's the Genpai War! The Japanese war of succession that ended in 1185! That was over eight hundred years ago!"

"Uh-huh," Miho nodded cheerfully. She continued walking, forcing Yugi to resume as well or be left behind.

"So…you were just _inherited_ by each successive ruling clan?" Yugi asked incredulously. "That's horrible! Why didn't you leave?"

"Miho…was not allowed to leave," she said quietly. Her vermillion eyes were downcast, her face expressionless. "Miho thought she might be, when the traders began to come, but then Tokugawa Iemitsu began _sakoku _and the old ways came back."

She went on, heedless of the fact that she was giving her life story to someone she'd just met. "Then _bakumasu _began and people started visiting again. Miho made friends with a visitor to the estate of the Tokugawa clan where she served. He was an American. He said he was a ship's doctor. When _jōi _came and he had to go, he came to Miho and asked Miho to come with him. Miho was frightened, but Miho had never had a friend before. Miho didn't want to never see him again, so Miho agreed. He helped smuggle Miho out and brought Miho back here. Miho lived with him and his wife for many years until they passed away. Miho liked them. Miho had nightmares, sometimes; they tried to help. They taught Miho to be happy. Miho owes them everything Miho has now."

Yugi stared at her quietly for a moment, the girl with the gentle smile and the shallow eyes that had seen so much more than anyone could guess. Then, impulsively, he hugged her. Miho made a quiet _oof_ of surprise before giggling and returning the hug.

"Don't be sad, Yugi-_kun_."

They continued on their way, chattering about nothing in particular. Despite her way of speaking—the third-person address and simple grammar peppered with the sort of gratuitous Japanese Yugi was accustomed to hearing only from English-speaking anime fans—and the blithe ignorance she bore towards most topics, Yugi got the impression that she wasn't unintelligent, but rather sheltered, her affect warped by years of repetition and service. It wasn't unlike speaking to a precocious child; it wasn't that she couldn't reason and think rationally, but that she was trying to understand concepts she had no context for yet. It was actually rather pleasant to listen to her happy rambling, offering opinions when she knew the subject and asking questions when she didn't.

* * *

On an island in the Pacific Northwest, there is a castle.

In downtown Berlin, there is a skyscraper.

In the backstreets of New York, there is a bar.

In the castle, an elegant man in his late twenties has sat down to his evening meal—alone. Candlelight gleams off of his silver-blond hair and highly-polished nails, and picks out the hollow of shadow where his right eye should be, illuminating a few faint ridges of pure, ancient gold.

In the skyscraper, a vampire leans back in his office chair, bits of foil crimped around many strands of his long red-brown hair; that peculiar shade which appears to be nearly maroon or even purple in colour. There is a book in his hands: _Also Sprach Zarathustra._

"I really don't understand what Seto saw in this book," he comments aloud, even though the room is empty. Closer inspection reveals that there is a phone clamped between his shoulder and his ear. He speaks in German, naturally. "It's all rather pompous, I mean. Then, I never liked Nietzsche, even when he was _alive_. Damned human supremacist. Or _super_human supremacist. Frankly, I'm not sure which is worse. _Supremacy. _What an illusion! What a joke! Still, I suppose it's easier to put a dead man up on a pedestal than a live one," he muses, returning to his original statement.

There is a moment of silence, in which the man seems to be listening. Then he laughs. "Well, yes, but this is Seto we're talking about. I suppose when your sire was Gozaburo Kaiba, dead philosophers are a step _up _as role models go."

He taps one of the bits of foil, counting mentally. "Has it—yes, twenty minutes. Excellent."

He sets the book down and shrugs off his suit coat. "Sorry, Leon, but I'm going to have to let you go—I'll tell you what, you're still rather fond of the theatre, yes? I'm planning to arrive well in advance of the Court meeting; why don't we go to see a show? One last time. Before opening session, I mean. …Excellent. I shall make the arrangements. Incidentally, my apologies for calling so early today; I do hope I didn't wake you. Alright. I'll be seeing you."

He hangs up the phone and rubs at his eyes for a moment before punching a button on the intercom. "Erika, please make sure everything is arranged for my flight to New York tomorrow, _ja?_ I don't want any delays. And see what's playing on Broadway this season. Check the reviews. If it's any good, I want two tickets for the first showing after sunset on Tuesday."

"Of course, _Herr_ von Schroeder."

In the bar, Bandit Keith sits slouched over a beer, fuming over his last encounter with the Motou kid. Fuckin' brat, messing with his head like that, screwing over his whole rep! Kid wasn't even planning to go pro; he'd only showed up at the damn Expo as some kinda holdover from the amateur career he'd had in high school. So where'd he get off on dissing his game, huh?

He drains the bottle before him and shoves himself off of the stool, shouldering the door open and squinting slightly under the suddenly relentless sun. Shit, this was gonna be one mother of a headache…

Keith turns down an alleyway, out of the sun. Skulking around like a vamp was never high-up on his list of Things To Do but, he decides, it beats the alternative. Besides, it's not like you have to worry about running into trouble when you're the trouble other people run into. Or something like that…

They are all linked, though they don't know it yet. Well, perhaps one of them does. The man in the castle smiles faintly, studying the screen of the tablet beside his placemat.

"Mm. I do believe things are about to start getting interesting…"

* * *

"Great! Now I just need to go to the hospital and get the shot!" Yugi grinned, but Miho looked a little sad. They were walking through some of the backstreets between the campus and the hospital, at Miho's request—the weather was clearing up a little more than was comfortable for her, and the close alleys afforded more shadow. Yugi wasn't entirely comfortable with it, given his recent experience with alleyways, but he couldn't very well ask Miho to burn herself to a crisp just so that he wasn't as _nervous_.

"Will Miho be able to see Yugi-_kun_ again?"

Yugi hesitated. "I don't know. I hope so."

"Miho hopes so too. Miho wouldn't—Yugi-_kun_, run!"

"What—_urk!"_ Yugi crumpled to the ground in a heap as a stone bounced off of his forehead.

"Yugi-_kun!"_ Miho shrieked. She yanked her umbrella closed, standing over her fallen friend protectively. "Hey, come out and try your luck against a _miko_ of Ma'at!"

"The hell is a _miko?_ Get out of the way, kid." A gruff-looking man in sunglasses with an American flag bandanna over his blond hair emerged from the far end of the alley.

"Wah!" Miho fastened her umbrella and brandished it before her. "M-Miho is warning you! Stay away."

"Heh. That's cute. Now seriously, kid, back off. I got no beef with you. Just your little boyfriend there. It's personal. So why don'tcha run along, huh? I don't hit girls." He smirked, crossing his arms as he waited.

Miho blinked. "You—you're human! Oh no…Miho wasn't told to fight humans, but Miho must keep Yugi-_kun_ safe…" She looked torn.

Perhaps recovering naturally, or perhaps at the sound of his name, Yugi began to stir. "M-Miho-_chan?_ What…what's goin' on?"

"Oh good, you're awake," Yugi's assailant sneered. "Tell ya what, your girl here? I don't think she's all there, Motou.

Yugi slowly made his way upright, raising a hand to his forehead. He grimaced as it came away bloody. Wiping his hand as best he could on his jeans, he squinted at the man. "…Keith."

"Hey, will you look at that?" Bandit Keith clapped sardonically, smirking at the younger man. "The hotshot-upstart kid remembers me."

"What do you want, Keith?" Yugi rested a hand against the brick wall beside him. His head was spinning… "I haven't done anything to you."

"Oh, didn'tcha? See, the way _I _remember it, you made an ass outta me at the Expo last month, and well, you see how it is. Toldja I'd get even, didn't I? This is me balancing the scales." Keith advanced towards Yugi, who braced himself for the ass-kicking of a lifetime—he could barely _see_ straight, how was he supposed to _punch_ straight?

"Balancing the scales…" Miho murmured thoughtfully. "The scales…" Neither Yugi nor Bandit Keith noticed as the acolyte reached into the pocket of her cardigan.

"The way I remember it, you made an ass out of _yourself_. Call it whatever you want, Keith," Yugi spat out, still clutching at the wall for balance. Even so, his amethyst eyes blazed at the other man. "You're still just a bully and a cheater! And if you do this, I won't keep quiet about it anymore—I'll tell everyone about your little card tricks!"

"Guess I'll just have to make sure you can't, then," Keith shrugged, and pulled his fist back to deliver the first blow.

Suddenly there was a flash of gold and Keith pulled back, yelling. "What the fuck—?" A golden feather enamelled in shades of green, red, and white had pierced his clenched fist, wounding the contracted muscles and nearly punching through to his palm.

"Don't you dare talk about balancing the scales!" Miho shrilled. "You don't know the first thing about balance! About Ma'at! Now _back off_," she growled, and for the first time Keith looked at her—really _looked_ at her, saw her red eyes, her suddenly-exposed sharp canines—and blanched.

"_Fuck_ no, I do _not _have to put up with this. Take your fuckin' feather and keep your boy; I'm outta here. Crazy vampire bitch," he muttered, yanking out the feather with a bit-back cry of pain and tossing it across the alley to land at her feet as he backed away, retreating towards the end of the alley and relative safety. "It ain't over, man! Not by a long shot!" he called back to Yugi, and then he ran, cupping his injured hand and swearing under his breath.

"Yugi-_kun!_ You're okay!" Miho beamed, trotting across the alley towards him.

_God_, his head hurt. His vision was blurry, and there was this ringing sound in his ears. He couldn't stand up straight. He felt kind of like he wanted to throw up. Oh, wait—that was all significant, wasn't it? His eyes began to slide shut. Huh. He couldn't quite remember what all that added up to. Hopefully it wasn't anything…too…important…

Just as Miho reached him, Yugi passed out.

* * *

The Pharaoh would _like _to tell you that he was impossible to startle, but this was not quite the truth.

While most vampires, even day-goers, saw sunset as being dawn, for Yami it was more like noon, affording him the afternoon to deal with humans and the evening to manage his subjects. So Yami was not quite as surprised by the phone's shrill tone as he might have been as a normal vampire just waking up. It was a close thing, though, and he cringed as the sound shattered the silence in the library. Setting aside the sheaf of paper in his hands, he swivelled his chair and lifted the receiver of the old corded landline phone which rested on his desk.

"_Â__llo?"_

"_Pharaoh. I'm afraid I have some news."_

"Ishizu? News of what?" Possibilities whirled through the Vampire King's mind. Had someone found out about…?

He reached almost unconsciously for the red-filled glass before him, but snatched it back in surprise at Ishizu's next words.

"_The human boy you wished guarded—"_

"Yugi?" The Pharaoh stood swiftly, pacing to and fro before his desk as far as the coiled cord allowed. "Has he been harmed? Have _none_ of my subjects respect for my laws?" The first question was a concerned enquiry, the second, a vicious snarl.

"_He has been harmed, but no vampire did the deed. He is alive, thanks to Miho's swift intervention."_

"Why could she not defend him from the outset?" Yami demanded, trying to withhold judgement.

"_She did not anticipate a human assailant. However, the first blow delivered was his last. I remind you, my Pharaoh, he _is_ alive, though unconscious."_

The Pharaoh's next word was a sharp demand.

"Where?"

* * *

_**A/N: MLK Jr Day notwithstanding, the next update will still be Monday as scheduled barring technical difficulties 'cause OMGWTFBBQ snow EVERYWHERE!1! La'ers.**_


	7. Chapter Five

_**A/N: …'barring technical difficulties'? What possessed me to say that? Why did I even **_**think **_**that? Anyway, two days late, here it is. I'm still planning to update Friday, bar—**_

_**Nope. Not going to say it. Nuh-uh.**_

_**QUICK HEADS-UP: As the alternate chapter title indicates, here there be slash. This is pretty much as explicit as it gets, intensity-wise, but all the same next chapter I'll be kicking the rating up to **_**M,**_** because I don't want my story purged on a technicality. I'd hoped to avoid it, **_**T **_**garnering a wider readership after all, but a smaller readership is better than no readership, which is what I'd have if my story got deleted. QED. Content-wise, it'll remain more-or-less a **_**T story, **_**so if you cruise exclusively for **_**K-T **_**stories and want to continue reading this one, I'd suggest you either follow this story or find it via searching instead of browsing. Sorry for the inconvenience, and thank you!**_

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**The Implications of One's Actions**

_**Or,**_** Oh **_**Right, **_**the Yaoi…**

_**Friday: -6 Days**_

Yugi awoke to the sound of Miho's tearful voice.

"Miho is sorry, Miho failed, Miho let Yugi-_kun_ get hurt—Miho is sorry…!"

"Peace, Miho, peace. The doctors say he will be alright. He would be far worse off were you not at his side earlier. He is well, Miho, as are you. Neither I nor Lady Ishtar are displeased with you." The second voice was a gentle, rich baritone—familiar, so very familiar…Yami. The Pharaoh.

There were more noises behind that. The _fwih-shing_ of curtains on metal rods, the steady quiet beep of a vitals monitor, the murmur of nearby voices. The sweet/metallic chemical tang of antiseptic stung at his nose, harsh and familiar. An emergency room?

His suspicions were confirmed when he at last managed to open his eyes. He was indeed partitioned off in an ER, lying on a plastic bed. His favourite place in the whole world. Actually, it was pretty high up on the list. Just not with him as a _patient._

Miho stood by his bedside, her eyes having gone a deep brown, almost black, with the setting of the sun. They were filled with tears, and damp tear-trails arced down her face. Her bluish pale hair was coming loose from its ponytail, wisps coiling around her face. Yami stood in front of her, bent just slightly, a hand resting on each of her shoulders and his violet eyes staring into hers. It was an oddly paternal pose, especially given that today's outfit consisted entirely of black leather and a dark red jacket. That golden pendant still hung around his neck.

"Miho, please trust me. _This was not your fault_," he said, and the gentle insistence behind his words gave Yugi the impression that he'd been saying them for a while.

"But—" Miho was practically hyperventilating now. "I—Yami-_sama, gomen nasai—!"_

Yami sighed gently and slowly shook his head, eyes closed. He smiled faintly. "Miss—Miho, little one, please, I understand your concern." His eyes opened and his face and voice became quite serious. "Indeed, I share it. But humans are far more resilient these days. A concussion is nothing to laugh at, certainly, but it's scarcely an automatic death sentence."

Miho did not seem comforted, if the continuing silent tears were anything to go by. She seemed to have given up on breathing altogether—which, given that vampires _did_ need to breathe at least a little, was not particularly a good idea.

"Hey, s'okay, Miho-_chan_," Yugi managed. To his embarrassment, his voice was quieter than he intended and had a gravelly, groggy quality to it that he didn't like one bit. The room was also still a little bit muzzy around the edges. However, soft as his voice was, the two vampires heard it quite clearly, and Miho launched herself at him with a near-hysterical cry.

"Yugi-_kun!_ Are you okay?"

Awkwardly, given that she had one of them pinned down, he put his arms around her and patted her back. "Yup. All senses, appendages, and memories more or less intact. And, _arigato_, Miho_-chan_."

Miho pulled away a little, looking at him bewilderedly through tear-filled eyes. "Huh? But Miho let Yugi-_kun_ get hurt."

"I would have gotten a lot _more_ hurt if you weren't there," Yugi replied, registering the failing grammar and dismissing the issue as irrelevant just now. "Concussions are a week, tops. Morgues are forever."

"Or a period ranging from approximately two-point-four days to one-hundred-and-twelve years," Yami muttered pedantically, prompting an eye roll from Yugi.

Miho beamed and rested her hands on Yugi's shoulders, bending over and lightly kissing his cheek. "Miho is glad Yugi-_kun_ is okay. And Miho would like to see Yugi-_kun_ again sometime. It's nice to have friends."

"'Course, Miho-_chan._ You can swing by anytime you like, since you _somehow_ magically know where I live." Yugi's voice drained of sincerity at about the time the comma came into play, at which point his eyes flicked up over Miho's shoulder and gave Yami a meaningful _look_.

The Pharaoh possessed many graces; the grace to look embarrassed was apparently not one of them.

"I hope I can sometime soon!" Miho smiled again. "But Miho has to leave now; Miho is already late to meet Ishtar-_sama_ at the temple! _Sayonara,_ Yugi-_kun!"_

"_Sayonara, _Miho-_chan."_ Yugi watched the girl leave with a little smile on his face. Once she was gone, he turned his attention to Yami, who was staring after her looking faintly perturbed.

"Eternity keep you," the Pharaoh muttered wryly, shaking his head. Then he seemed to notice Yugi's eyes on him and turned to face him, crossing his arms.

"You know, it's a shame there isn't a translator that'll take your expression right now and turn it into English." Yugi studied him for a moment; the slightly uplifted chin, the cool eyes, the indifferent not-quite-smirk. "Defiant, arrogant, just a teensy bit self-righteous, self-satisfied, or maybe both…I'm going with _I regret nothing,_ personally. Am I close?"

"On the mark, rather. I was hoping that was obvious."

"Sit down," Yugi said. "It's starting to hurt my neck looking up at you like this."

Without a word, Yami settled into the chair at Yugi's bedside, crossing his arms. Two sharp violet eyes and one blank gold one fixed on the injured student.

"I'll go first, then?" Yugi guessed, arching a brow.

"By all means," Yami murmured.

"Oh, good. Wait, hang on a sec, I can't talk with this thing beeping at me." He reached over and pressed a few buttons on his vitals monitor, knowing better than to slide the clip off right away—that'd just fool the machine into thinking he'd flatlined. Noisy _and _embarrassing.

Yugi re-settled himself against his pillow and returned his gaze to the vampire. "Where was I?"

"'Oh, good'," Yami quoted obligingly.

"Yeah, _good."_ Yugi crossed his arms. "Because I'm _really_ curious to know why you sicced one of your people on me!"

"You're getting your verbs confused," Yami replied evenly. "To 'sic' a subject upon an object is to induce the subject to chase the object with the goal of attacking. Miss Nosaka was instructed to shadow you and to intervene should your life become endangered. Vague as it is, I suppose the best possible word for directing a subject to _follow_ an object with the goal of _protecting_ said object would be to _assign."_

Yugi stared at the vampire open-mouthed for a moment before shaking his head. "Ignoring that _completely pointless_ bit of nit-picking, you still haven't answered my question."

"Because your question was based upon a conclusion drawn from a false premise, it was invalid. Impossible to answer." The Pharaoh shrugged. "An invalid question, after all, has no basis in fact and thus, no factually true answer. I could have made something up, if you would have preferred."

"I'm beginning to think I _would_ have," Yugi forced out through gritted teeth. _Is he being _deliberately _impossible!?_

"I've annoyed you."

"What. Gave it. Away."

"But, as to why I asked Miss Nosaka—admittedly indirectly—to watch over you…well, isn't it obvious?" Yami chuckled gently. "I do not leave my debts unpaid. It's a bad policy. And for the record, she _did _help you."

"D-debt?" Yugi's irritation fell away, replaced by confusion—then reminiscence and finally, understanding.

"_I won't forget this, Yugi. There are…not many who would act thus, finding me as you did."_

So that was it. Yami felt he owed him a debt, and this was how he'd chosen to pay it. It was actually kind of…sweet. In a mafia kind of way.

"So…I drag you back to my apartment and you pay me back by assigning a teenaged girl to be my bodyguard?"

"You must admit she is effective," the Pharaoh pointed out. "And far older than she appears."

"Oh, trust me. I heard. So, uh…" Yugi blushed. "I guess I should be thanking you, then."

"For repaying a debt? That rather defeats the point, don't you think?" Yami countered.

"W-well…"

Yugi's search for a good way to continue stretched into silence, which in turn stretched into awkward. Little annoying things love to make themselves out to be supreme irritations during empty moments like awkward silences; perhaps that's why Yugi found himself reaching up and rubbing at the bandage on his forehead. Yami raised an eyebrow.

"I thought doctors were quite stern about that whole 'leave the bandage alone' thing," the vampire commented.

"Yeah, but doctors also make very bad patients and med students are just untrained, unpaid, and impatient doctors. Trust me, the temperament is born, not made." Yugi scratched gently at the skin around the bandage. "Plus, it _itches._ And I want it to _stop."_

"Had your assailant been a vampire, I would offer to track him down and dismember him for you. Otherwise, I'm afraid I can offer little in the way of assistance," the Pharaoh said dryly.

"I can't decide if that was more considerate or disturbing," Yugi said, tugging a little on the edges of the bandage in an effort to relieve some of the irritation, "but there was definitely a little of both in there."

As unsuccessful as he was at ignoring the itching at his forehead, it was twice as ineffectual to try and ignore the weird dizzy feeling that came with Yami's sudden sweet, gratified smile. "Well, violence is often more subjective than people realise."

"Huh," Yugi snorted, "always seemed pretty black and whi—" The itching suddenly stopped. This was mainly because the adhesive on Yugi's bandage finally gave way, and the gauze pad slipped right off into Yugi's hand. "…Oops? Well, I don't feel anything, so I guess at least the blood's clotted, or starting to…"

He trailed off as he realised the vampire wasn't listening. Yami's eyes had shifted to a point above Yugi's own, utterly transfixed by what he saw there.

"Yami?" he whispered—partly to distract Yami, partly to distract himself from the unsettling realisation that the hungry look in the Pharaoh's eyes wasn't nearly as frightening as it should have been.

"Pharaoh," Yugi tried again, and this time Yami started, shaking his head briskly.

"My apologies. It has been a trying day," he said easily.

Yugi wasn't about to be put off so easily. Such intense reactions two days in a row, with a feeding in-between? Even a fledgling had more control than that!

"You shouldn't even begin to be thirsty again for at least another day," Yugi frowned. "I'm thinking maybe you're doing worse than I am, Yami."

"And yet _you_ are the one in the emergency room."

"I was being serious, Yami, I'm worri—"

"As was I." The Pharaoh's expression was forbidding. "My business is my own. Do not press me, child."

"Ch-child? I'm twenty-one!"

"I'm five thousand, two hundred and thirty-six," Yami countered, raising an eyebrow. "Approximately. Assuming I'm calculating all the calendar shifts and revisions correctly."

Yugi still smarted from the Pharaoh's termination—nay, _guillotining_—of the topic of his health. What had that even been? A dismissal, or a threat?

"I do hope you'll pardon my use of your phone," Yami said abruptly. "Joey's number was programmed in; I called him when I arrived…ten minutes ago? He should be here any moment."

"Oh, th-thank you," Yugi stammered, taken aback. "What did you tell him?"

"That you were injured, but not seriously; that you were here; and that I would stay with you until he arrived."

"Oh," Yugi blushed. Again. Suddenly, Yami laughed—softly, but a laugh nonetheless.

"What?"

"You." Yami shook his head, smiling slightly. "All this in two days? You're quite the little trouble magnet, aren't you?"

"I really, really hope not," Yugi groaned. "It's your fault. Gotta be."

"Doubtless." Yami tilted his head. "I think I hear Joey at the desk. The voice is…distinctive."

He lifted Yugi's hand and produced a black pencil from somewhere, scribbling something on the college student's wrist. Yugi blinked.

"Is that _eyeliner?"_

"Kohl," Yami corrected, somewhat tetchily. "And technically, _now_ it's my number. In case you run into any trouble that needs a little _deus ex machina_ to clear up." He stood, tucking the kohl away and tugging his jacket into place. "Do please take care, little one."

"You too," Yugi reminded him, letting the name pass—if Miho could take it, he could.

"Of course." Yami smiled gently. Then, bracing himself against the bed, he leaned over and placed a tender kiss on Yugi's forehead. Yugi fought another blush, failing miserably and squeaking a little in surprise as the vampire's tongue flicked out and grazed the wound Yugi had inadvertently exposed earlier.

Yami moaned softly, a longing, blissful sound that sent a further rush of heat through Yugi's body.

"My gods," he breathed, so quietly Yugi could barely hear it over the suddenly erratic beat of his own heart ringing in his ears. "That is…_so good…_"

"Y-yeah," Yugi murmured breathlessly, tilting his head up and meeting those dark eyes. Yami slipped a hand under the student's chin, holding his face gently. Yugi trailed his own hand up the arm Yami had put his weight upon, coming to a stop with his fingers resting on the king's shoulder.

"I should go," Yami whispered.

"Yeah, you should…definitely…go." Yugi's other hand made its way around the vampire's waist, coming to rest at the small of his back, silky red fabric sliding and rumpling beneath his fingers.

"Mm-hm…" Yami's hand slid from Yugi's jaw to the back of his neck, pulling him forward into a soft kiss. Yugi's eyes slipped shut and he gasped softly against the other's lips, shifting his first arm around Yami's neck. The Pharaoh made a satisfied sound in reply, sliding his hand down until his arm was wrapped around Yugi's waist, shifting his weight to the leg he'd brought onto Yugi's bed, taking his now-free arm and curling it around Yugi's shoulders, pulling him forward until he was pressed tight against the vampire. Overwhelming closeness. Searing heat.

_Perfection._

Yami broke the kiss and laughed low in his throat, the sound vibrating through Yugi. "Lovely," he rumbled as Yugi let out a shuddering sigh, his eyes opening just the slightest bit to see the vampire's penetrating gaze locked on him—not on the blood on his forehead, not the vein in his neck, but on _him_, his face and his eyes and his _lips_, with a most alluring look in his eyes, and the sight sent thrills through Yugi's entire body.

_My turn,_ Yugi decided.

He kissed the Pharaoh fiercely, almost roughly, and Yami returned the gesture with equal ardour, nipping provocatively and none-too-gently at Yugi's lips as he pushed him down onto the bed again and climbed on top of him, his hands drifting teasingly over Yugi's chest. Yami ground his hips into the younger man's, eliciting a long, low groan of pleasure and wanting which the vampire caught with his own lips, bowed into a reckless smirk. Breaking the kiss, he whispered lowly into Yugi's ear. "Like that, do you?"

"Yes…"

"Oh, _good,"_ the Pharaoh murmured, smiling lasciviously. He closed the distance between them once again, his eyes falling closed slowly, almost decadently.

Then suddenly Yami pulled away, eyes snapping open. A faint flurry of movement was all that could be seen for a moment and then the Pharaoh stood once again by Yugi's bedside, his clothes and hair immaculate, his expression impassive.

"What—" Yugi was about to protest, but Yami shook his head urgently.

"Da hell is your _problem,_ man?"

Yugi blinked. Joey? Right—Yami had said—

"My problem right _now_ is _you_, mutt. Now get the fuck out of my way!" The curtain to Yugi's partition was pulled roughly open by an extremely tall russet-haired man with piercing blue eyes and a long white coat. Yugi could see Joey standing behind him, wearing a deep scowl on his face.

Oh. _Shit._ Seto Kaiba and Joey Wheeler were in the same room. At least they were already in a hospital…

"There is, naturally, a _reason_ you are here, _Lord_ Kaiba?" Yami enquired lazily, resting his right hand on his hip and raising an eyebrow at the man.

"Yeah," Kaiba retorted, in a tone only marginally more polite than the one he reserved for Joey. _"You_. This is the second time you've gone completely off-radar—"

"Screw dis, I'm gettin' in to my friend now," Joey grumbled, yanking the curtain shut again and ducking under Kaiba's arm, earning an irritated twitch from the vampire Lord. "Hey, Yug', you okay?"

"I'm fine, Joey," Yugi smiled, reaching a hand out to touch the back of his best friend's hand comfortingly.

"—in two days. _Two days_. What the hell—"

"And this is the second time in two days you have blatantly challenged my authority and competence as Pharaoh," Yami interrupted smoothly, dangerously. "The first occasion I was willing to overlook due to its privacy. This is no longer the case. _Kneel,"_ he ordered, his eyes blazing.

Joey and Yugi exchanged looks—_well this is awkward._

Kaiba met Yami's gaze for a moment before narrowing his eyes, opening his mouth to speak.

"That was _not_ a request!" the Pharaoh cut him off, his voice cracking like a whip. Seemingly sensing danger on the horizon, Kaiba complied without a further second of hesitation, dropping down on one knee and bowing his head—genuflection, Yugi recalled; that was the word.

"Seto Kaiba, you are a valued member of my Court, and I have no wish to lose your services, but this disrespect _must cease_. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, my Pharaoh." Kaiba's voice was formal, almost stiff. The Pharaoh took a step forward, lifting the other man's chin.

"I do not ask you to prostrate yourself before me, merely to respect me. I ask you not for blind obedience, to be a dog with his master, but for _loyalty._ Loyalty is the greatest gift a ruler can receive. Will you grant me that honour?" His voice was soft and sincere, and he stepped back.

After a moment of hesitation, Kaiba rose, meeting the king's eyes. "Yes, my Pharaoh."

Yami smiled slightly. "Thank you." Looking past the taller man, he nodded at Yugi's roommate. "Joey. Try and keep him out of trouble, will you?"

"Not possible. But Yugi's tough," Joey grinned, glaring at Kaiba as the tall vampire cast a dubious look over his roommate.

"I know," Yami said quietly, meeting Yugi's eyes. "We'll talk?"

Yugi nodded, ignoring the sinking feeling that he would regret their…indiscretions…once out of the vampire's immediate vicinity. He fought the urge to glance down at his wrist as the Pharaoh regally nodded his goodbyes and left, Kaiba shooting a last blazing look of contempt and resentment at Joey before following.

"Creep," Joey muttered, firing back a glare of his own before turning back to Yugi. "Still, wish Yami hadn't embarrassed him like that. That's gotta sting. So. What gotcha?"

"Bandit Keith," Yugi groaned, closing his eyes. Yup; the pheromones were retreating and reality was kicking in. He'd just made out with the Vampire King, and there were several somethings very wrong with that sentence.

"Keith? Dat bastard! He lost, why doesn't he just get over it?"

"'Cause he's a jerk," Yugi opined, grateful for anything to distract his attention at this point.

Still, on the plus side of things, he had the strangest feeling that some deep, horrid wound etched in his psyche had been suddenly healed.

* * *

"You sent for me, my Pharaoh?"

"Ishizu. Do come in." Yami's voice was practically a purr. His face, however, was impassive.

"…Pharaoh?" She closed the door, tentatively advancing towards the vampire at his desk.

"You had a vision. And you moved us all as you saw fit to ensure it came true." His voice, if possible, grew even softer, silkier, colder. "I do not like being manipulated, Ishizu."

A trace of frozen fear worked its way into her heart. "My Pharaoh, I—I can offer no excuse. I acted in a way I thought most beneficial for our kind." She stared at the ground, and even her vampiric ears had trouble discerning the footsteps of her king as he trod softly over the wooden floor towards her. She fell to her knees as she heard him come to a stop before her.

"Peace, Ishizu." Yami reached down a hand, catching one of her own and helping her to stand, though she still did not turn her eyes from the floor. "I have sworn never to do you harm. Do you truly think I would go back on my word so easily?" He released her hand and stepped back. "You have acted only as I instructed. I wished you to use your gifts as best you could to aid me and my cause. I can only assume that this is an example of you doing so."

Yami sighed, and Ishizu lifted her gaze to see him rubbing a hand over his eyes in fatigue. "Just…tell me. Was there any way to ensure the necessary outcome _without _frightening poor Miss Nosaka out of her few remaining wits—or, for that matter, without forcing an innocent human to spend the night in an emergency room?"

"Lamentably, no," Ishizu replied, clasping her hands before her. "My vision was of the boy in the hospital, injured very mildly, and of your presence at his side. I knew Miho would defend him from serious harm, but in the face of violating her own moral code she might hesitate to attack a human just long enough for Yugi to sustain the injury I foresaw, enabling my vision to come to pass."

Yami nodded sharply. "As I suspected." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "My…presence."

Ishizu glanced away, confirming another set of Yami's suspicions entirely.

"You knew I would be tempted…but not that I would resist." His next words were almost a whisper, a tone that sounded almost…_scared_. But that couldn't be right. "Ishizu…I possess admirable restraint at the best of times. _These are not the best of times._ What would you have done, had I given in? Drunk from him? _Drained_ him?" His voice resumed a normal volume. "I'll give you a hint: any answer other than 'put you down myself' is not actually feasible."

Ishizu was quiet for a moment, then: "I knew he would survive."

"Oh really?"

She looked him dead in the eyes, aqua meeting violet. "He was there."

"'There'…" Yami's eyes widened. "Your other vision. That of my," he hesitated, "impending demise."

"Yes. I must remind you again, my Pharaoh—"

"You had a vision of me, collapsed, the sun well risen, and my eyes as they were in my first life, as they are now in the darkest hour of the night. It does not matter that you did not see my precise moment of passing. That is the point of no return, Ishizu. You know this as well as I." The Pharaoh fell silent, looking a little morose. "Why would he be there? What significance has he?"

"Perhaps none," Ishizu suggested. "Perhaps he is not there because destiny demands it, but because _you_ do."

"What are you saying?"

"As you said, your restraint is…slipping. Despite knowing that you will not be able to hold back forever, you are not distancing yourself from him—far from it. On some level, you have already accepted that you will give in, that you will feed."

Yami thought about that, and looked stricken. "Oh _damn...!_ I haven't been helping him, have I? I've been _hunting_ him." Shaking his head, the Pharaoh crossed back to his desk and perched on the edge, pinching the bridge of his nose in aggravation.

"Fate can be subverted," Ishizu said at length, slowly coming to join him, standing beside the desk on which he sat. "You could let him go. Keep yourself away from him."

Yami shook his head, the motion at odds with his reply. "You're right, of course. Although I _did_ promise I'd speak to him…but I have much to do, I shall be busy…"

"As shall he, I am certain." Ishizu thought for a moment, and then carefully said, "It is as well. The others might have been tempted, with a human so isolated and near—"

"They would not _dare. _He is _mine_, and they will _learn _that!" Yami snarled, fixing maddened eyes on her. Ishizu watched coolly as sense crept back into their violet depths. "Oh gods," he moaned, burying his face in his hands, his words becoming muffled.

"Isi—Ishizu, I—I can't. It rends me from my sanity," he lifted his head, "the—the _taste_, the _scent_, the _feel_ of him; he's burned into me, _branded _into my very thoughts, seizing my every merest impulse. I didn't even expect the bloodlust, not really, and this? This _fixation_, this all-consuming need for this _one_ boy, for him and him alone—" The Pharaoh shook his head, looking, for the first time that Ishizu had ever seen, thoroughly miserable. His breathing, though still quiet, had an uneven, ragged quality to it that she didn't like the sound of at all. "I can't," he repeated. "I just can't. I _need_ to see him again, Ishizu; I need to touch him, taste him, listen to his voice…why him? Why just _him?"_

Ishizu dispensed with formality and seated herself on the desk beside Yami, taking his hand in one of her own. "I am not certain that your fixation results entirely from your _vampiric_ instincts." She paused. "You sampled far more than his blood, I gather."

Yami was silent.

"He is not unattractive. There is a…vulnerability about his appearance which has, historically, drawn your attention and of course, there are certain physical similarities to you which doubtless appeal to your more…narcissistic tendencies."

The Pharaoh laughed softly at that.

"Furthermore, he saved your life. You are grateful, and perhaps even a little in awe of a generosity you thought never to find in a stranger."

"I have a _crush?_" Yami asked sardonically. "Your five-thousand-year-old king has a _crush?"_

"If you wish to call it that," Ishizu replied neutrally.

"Don't be ridiculous. What about my actions speaks to affection? Maybe I can try _stalking _him next. _That _would be romantic. I can exsanguinate him for Valentine's Day. A ridiculous proposition at the best of times; you _know _I don't do the…_romance _thing." He looked vaguely perturbed by the idea. "I wouldn't have time for that if I _weren't _dying."

"My poor lonely king," Ishizu said wryly.

"Lonely? I've Law for a master, Politics for a wife, and War for a mistress, though Politics threatened to leave me if I didn't let War alone so I've more or less sworn her off now." The Pharaoh laughed, harsh and mirthless. "Enough of love. I wish my successor better luck at destroying your stash of penny-dreadfuls."

"They will need it," the High Priestess agreed.

For a moment, the library was quiet again. Then,

"What am I to do, Ishizu?" The Pharaoh met her eyes beseechingly.

"Talk to him," Ishizu suggested. "Over the phone, to begin with. See what happens. If you can restrain yourself from claiming his blood, that is a victory in its own right. If you cannot…" She shrugged. "But remember, my Pharaoh, that he is not as other prey. You are no stranger in the shadows, nor is he. Be cautious. And do nothing you will regret."

"As always, you have proved the wiser of us," Yami acknowledged wryly. His hand turned a little in hers, gripping her fingers lightly for reassurance. "Where would I be without your counsel, Ishizu?"

Ishizu smiled faintly—the first time such an expression had come to her in many days. "You got on well enough for millennia before me."

"However did I manage?" the Pharaoh wondered, returning the smile. "Ah…less than a week now."

"Have you given any thought to your successor?" Ishizu asked.

"No. I always do my best thinking in a crisis. I was thinking I'd just leave it until the night before, pick names at random until I find someone I like. You know. The usual," Yami shrugged.

The High Priestess blinked at him like she wasn't entirely sure he wasn't being serious.

"Yes, I've thought about it quite a bit," Yami sighed. "I've even talked to the Thief King about it—"

"Truly?" she asked, eyes wide. "You aren't worried someone will hear about it?"

"From him? Who would believe it if Bakhu'ra Akefia said I wasn't long for this world?" Yami asked. "It isn't as if he hasn't been loudly vowing to kill me for over a millennium. Actually, he had a few suggestions."

"I would suppose that his first suggestion was to place _him _on the throne, and his second, third, and so on were what Kaiba refers to as 'unprintable'," Ishizu stated.

"Surprisingly, no. Lady de Léon and Lord von Schroeder."

"I would second Lady de Léon, given those two for choice," Ishizu said. "Lord von Schroeder is rather young."

"Young, and competent, and loyal to a fault. Much like you," Yami pointed out, but Ishizu went on:

"Did you hear he highlights his hair _pink?"_

The Pharaoh sighed.


End file.
